Fresh Start
by MissHarryPotter123
Summary: After the war, Harry moved to Lima with George Weasley and enrolled in McKinley High. However, having a normal life doesn't go as planned when George starts abusing him. Will Harry speak out, or will he hide it until he can't anymore? This fic will be a possible trigger as there will be depression, suicide, self harm, alcohol abuse, child abuse, and mentions of rape. AU
1. Prologue

AN: Hey guys, this fic will, hopefully, be ongoing for quite a while, and I will try to update twice a month, but I hope to do more. **This fic will be a possible trigger as there will be depression, suicide, self harm, alcohol abuse, child abuse, and mentions of rape.** Please do not read ahead if you cannot cope with these things, and although it doesn't seem like it, this story will have a happy ending.

* * *

 _Prologue_

Harry Potter tapped his pen against the table, ignoring the teacher talking about the Second World War.

Due to the fact Hermione had used a charm to make him have a photographic memory while she taught him all she could, the lessons were useless, but it was okay. He was doing more than moping about.

However, history was boring, and he needed something to do, so he thought he'd start writing a song.

Hermione had found out, by walking into the bathroom while Harry was having a shower, that he was actually an amazing singer, and had suggested that rather than letting his emotions bottle up, he should sing. That way, no one ever had to know.

However, when the war came towards its end, Hermione was hit with a curse that slowly killed her over a period of 12 hours, and she was gone before the final battle ended.

Luckily, they had already sorted a plan, ready for the end. Harry would go off to America and enrol in school, starting a new life for himself. He would go with someone he could trust, and build a place he couldn't associate with bad things. She taught him everything possible while on the run, preparing him for the worst.

Well, that's what Hermione said. She also said to consider trusting adults around him, but that was easier said than done.

Now Harry was living in the States pretty much alone. George had come with him, being the only Weasley left. Fred had died shielding Ginny from the same curse that had hit Hermione, Ginny being hit squarely in the back with a rouge killing curse seconds later.

Molly and Arthur died together, holding each other's hands, back to back with their wands out. Their last words, as they saw the end nearing, were 'I love you', their lives ending less than a second later.

Ron had accidently killed Charlie when he missed his shot, and fell to his death. Ron couldn't carry on fighting knowing he had harmed his own flesh and blood, so he surrendered and let Bellatrix have her way, knowing Hermione was dying anyway. He would meet her there.

They never found Fleur, Percy or Bill's bodies, but they were last seen fighting side by side moments before the quidditch pitch went up in flames.

Although George had come with him, George wasn't whole. He had broken since Fred's death. He tried to hide it, tried to act normal, but he needed Fred, and there was no way to bring Fred back.

Harry was just scared that one day, George would blame him.

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AN: How did I do? This is mainly a background chapter, but it will set things up for the rest of the story. Thanks for reading, please review.


	2. I Must Not Tell Lies

AN: Hey guys, so, at a time I really should be sleeping, I am writing, so do not judge me for any mistakes. This is un-betaed and I'm proud of my mistakes. Okay, I'm not, but still; if there are any, do not blame me.

As I forgot to say, I am going to say this before we continue on with the story. This will not be a Harry/Kurt story. There will be a bit of one-sided Harry/Kurt on Kurt's side, but Harry loves Ginny far too much to consider even dating anyone else. Sorry if anyone was hoping they'd get together.

Songs Used:  
Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton - Sung by Harry

* * *

 _I Must Not Tell Lies_

"Hi, I'm Kurt. I noticed you in history, but you sat too far away for me to talk to you," A tall pale boy with blue (or are they green?) eyes said. His hair was perfectly styled and, although feminine, he was impeccably dressed, "and you did the same for our other 2 lessons."

"I'm Harry, nice to meet you." Harry said, nodding at the new information, before going to walk always, in hopes of finding the Spanish classroom before he was late.

"What lesson do you have, I could walk you to it so you don't get lost," Kurt offered, and Harry's face almost split in half.

"Thanks, I wouldn't be able to get to Spanish on time, otherwise," Harry said, relieved. He would dare ask, but he'd always take an offer.

"Oh, you have Spanish, too. Awesome, we are in the same class. That means we can get to know each other," Kurt said, taking Harry's timetable from him as they began walking, and examined it closely, "You have most lessons with me, but you have two lessons with Artie, one of my friends, so you should be fine."

"Okay," Harry murmured, somewhat calmly. Inside, he was scared. What was he supposed to say about himself to other people?

 _Hello, I'm Harry Potter. I'm 17 years old, but I've already physically killed 3 people and caused thousands of deaths. Pleased to meet you._

Kurt had been talking non-stop during Harry's mini panic, not that Harry had taken any of it in, and they were now outside of the Spanish classroom. People were still in the corridor chatting and laughing, and only a minute had passed.

"Hey Mr. Schuester, this is Harry. He's new." Kurt said, introducing Harry to the teacher. The man nodded, smiling at Harry.

"Hello, Harry, yes I heard about you. How much Spanish do you know?" He asked, softly.

"Enough to get by," Harry murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Mr. Schuester nodded, and sent him to sit with Kurt as the other kids were now coming in.

As the lesson began, they slipped into a mass of vocal repetition, and that didn't bother Harry one bit, knowing he knew everything perfectly anyway.

He easily completed the worksheet he was given from history while he repeated what was said, Kurt grumbling when he still managed to pronounce everything right.

Once the lesson ended, Mr. Schuester called them back, "Harry, has Kurt told you about our Glee club? We are looking for new members, as always."

"Um, no he hasn't. That's a music group isn't it?" The question was directed at both men stood before him. Kurt nodded, his eyes lighting up.

"Does that mean you're interested?" Kurt asked, practically bouncing.

Harry sighed, looking at Mr. Schuester, "I'll give it a go."

"Brilliant, the club is on after school tonight, can you come?" The teacher asked, the happiness showing in his face.

"Yeah, I can," Harry said, thinking of George, "I'll be there."

"Awesome, you can audition tonight, then." Mr. Schuester exclaimed, grinning like an idiot.

As that was decided, Kurt told Mr. Schuester they had things to do, and dragged Harry out the classroom.

"Lunch time. That means it's time to meet my friends, and for you to actually tell me more about you than your name," Kurt told him, happily walking towards the cafeteria with Harry.

Harry nodded, tugging on his sleeves to make sure his hand was covered. Make up and magic irritated the scar, so he used too-big hoodies to cover his hands.

"Artie," Kurt called, and a boy in a wheelchair turned his head to look at Kurt, "Wait up."

The boy, Artie, waited for Harry and Kurt to catch up, and they walked together, Kurt introducing the two. When they got to the cafeteria, Harry knew he was about to meet a big group of people.

Harry followed Kurt and Artie to a big table, where there 5 girls and 3 boys, but with Artie and Kurt joining, it made things pretty even.

"Guys, this is Harry, a new student. He transferred from England," Kurt said. Harry wondered where Kurt had got his information, as Harry had never told him that, but Harry guessed it must have been his accent that gave that away.

"I'm Mercedes, nice to meet you," A big black girl said, her voice full and loud, without being too much.

"I'm Rachel. Are you joining Glee club?" The girl with brown hair, knee high socks and a dress asked.

"His audition is tonight, Mr. Schuester already recruited him in Spanish" Kurt answered, not giving Harry a chance to say anything.

"Oh."

The rest of the girls introduced themselves before letting the boys have a chance, and once that was over, Kurt turned to Harry, "Tell us about you."

"Well, I'm Harry. Just Harry, nothing special." Harry said, pulling out his lunch. He didn't see or feel his hoodie slip, and he didn't see the pair of eyes that saw his hand.

The scars were red and stood out from his pale skin, the words neatly carved out, like it had been done many times.

"Oh my, what does that say?" Kurt said, horrified, taking Harry's hand into his. Automatically, Harry pulled away, covering his hand hastily.

"It's nothing," The automatic lie slipped from his lips without a second thought.

"It said 'I must not tell lies.'" Rachel softly said, looking at Harry's covered hand.

Kurt gasped, "Who did that to you?"

Harry sighed, "It was a teacher about three years ago. But that doesn't matter, I'm safe here."

For the rest of lunch, they chatted idly, and every time someone tried to get to know Harry, he easily deflected their conversation onto something else.

When the bell rung, everyone went their separate ways, Kurt and Harry heading to math. They were handed a worksheet and told to just do that, so Kurt tried to find out what Harry was singing for his audition, so by the time the lesson ended, Kurt was desperate.

"Come on Harry, time for your audition for glee club," Kurt said, grabbing Harry's hand, and attempting to drag Harry down the corridor, but Harry pulled away, the touch burning.

No one had truly touched him since Ginny's funeral; the one where he broke down and begged to wake up from the nightmare, and still be 15 months old in his mums arms; the one where McGonagall cradled him like a baby 'til he cried himself to sleep.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Kurt asked, confused.

"I don't like being touched, sorry," The apology was added on, and they made there was to

They were the first to get to the choir room, other than Mr Schuester, and he beamed.

"Glad to see you here, Harry."

Harry nodded, and sat beside Kurt while they waited for the others to show up. It didn't take long for them to come in, chatting with their friends.

"As you might have noticed, we have a new member auditioning today."

There was applause all around the room, everyone glad to have someone new.

"It's nice to see you all being so supportive! Harry, this is what Glee is all about; being a part of something, having a safe place to express yourself, having fun!"

Harry stood and headed to the front and faced the small group.

"Harry, what song are you singing?"

Harry murmured his answer, and he nodded, stepping back.

Stood there, before 13 people he barely knew, he felt a little nervous.

He bit back a chuckle, finding it funny that he was nervous singing in front of strangers when he had faced (and killed) the worst person in the whole of history.

As the music kicked in, he began singing, his voice soft, "Would you know my name  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would it be the same  
If I saw you in heaven?"

The words reminded him of Hermione, the way they just worked together. He often wondered if things would be the same when he died, if his relationships stayed the way they were before that person died.

Being lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the soft gasps from the 13 people watching him, the way Rachel's eyes widened when she realized she had competition, or the way Kurt melted from the pain in Harry's voice.

"I must be strong  
And carry on  
'Cause I know I don't belong  
Here in heaven"

The words were a partial lie, because really, if you actually looked at it, Harry had survived the impossible. He should have died about 5 times, and that's not even counting what his uncle did to him.

"Would you hold my hand  
If I saw you in heaven?  
Would you help me stand  
If I saw you in heaven?"

Ginny would, wouldn't she. She'd hold his hand. She would help him with anything, and god, if she didn't, if she didn't hold his hand, who would.

Tears were slipping from Mercedes and Rachel's eyes, and the other girls weren't far behind. The pure emotion in what Harry sung made him unique, and no one saw the single tear that slid from Harry's eyes.

"Beyond the door  
There's peace I'm sure  
And I know there'll be no more  
Tears in heaven"

The words took Harry back to when he died, when he spoke to Dumbledore that last time. He wondered whether he should have asked to die; then he wouldn't have to be alone. Then he would be with his mum and dad, and Sirius and Remus, and Tonks, and Ginny. Then Hermione could come with Ron, finally holding hands, and Harry would have his happy ever after.

But of course, happy ever after doesn't exist for one Harry Potter.

As the song came to an end, there were few dry eyes in the room, the untainted emotion too much for any of them to handle.

And Harry felt a sense of pride burst within him as Mr. Schue declared he was an official Glee member.

The rest of the hour passed quickly as Mr. Schuester told them about that week's assignment, to sing a song, as a solo or duet that makes you think of someone you love.

Being the last to leave, Harry paused in the doorway, "Mr. Schuester,"

The teacher cut Harry off, "Please, call me Mr. Schue, everyone does."

"Okay, Mr. Schue, I just wanted to say thanks for accepting me, I needed somewhere to sing. Without music, I bottle things up, and I can't let it out."

"I'm glad I could give you that." He said, and Harry left, preparing for George when he got home.

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.


	3. Black Eyes

AN: Hey guys, I'm glad this got a positive response, and I hope you will all keep reading, but this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you enjoy it and read on!

 **This chapter does include minor abuse of alcohol and some child abuse, but if you cannot handle a few black eyes, I suggest you stop reading here.**

Songs Used:  
Gone too Soon by Daughtry - Sung by Harry

* * *

 _Black Eyes_

"It's your fault Fred is dead."

The words came of no shock to Harry, "I know."

George nodded drunkenly, "I just wanted to make sure of that."

As the 21-year-old staggered up the stairs, Harry sighed, and entered the kitchen to do his homework.

But first, he wanted to figure out what song he was going to go for Glee. Someone he loved, that was easy. He could pick Ginny, or his baby girl.

The thought of Lily stung, like it did every day, but he carried on, ignoring the tears that clouded his vision.

Okay, how to express how he felt about either? There were many songs he could pick.

Harry picked up a pencil, and drew out a table. One side for Ginny, the other for Lily.

Harry started with Ginny's side, songs instantly coming to mind.

I Can Wait Forever by Air Supply  
I'd Come for You by Nickleback

Harry then moved onto Lily's side.

I Will Carry You by Selah  
Gone too Soon by Daughtry

The lists were basic, and Harry knew he could sing each one, but he was still stuck. He didn't have favorite songs, he just loved music.

He sighed and put the list aside, grabbing his math homework. He worked through the simultaneous equations quickly, and put that aside. He looked at his Spanish homework, but he decided he'd do it later, after dinner.

"George, what do you want for dinner?" Harry called, hoping for something easy.

For a few minutes there was silence, then George responded, "I will not eat what you cook; You'll try to kill me, too."

Wow, George really is slaughtered, isn't he?

Harry shook his head, and decided he'd just cook himself some chips, so it would be done quickly. As he was cooking, George walked down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

"What you doing?" George asked, and Harry turned around.

"I'm cooking some chips for my dinner. You can have some if you'd like," Harry offered, hoping the red head would accept.

However, George shook his head, "I already told you, I didn't want anything you cooked, Potter."

Harry sighed and turned to George, "If you hate me this much, why did you offer to come with me instead of Kingsley."

George smiled, "Because your family. I can't leave you alone, can I?"

Okay, this doesn't feel right, Harry thought before responding, "No, I guess not."

George left the kitchen, letting Harry breathe a sigh of relief. He was just drunk; he always got like that after too many drinks.

Harry finished cooking, and quickly ate the meal he had cooked, wanting to finish his homework and go to bed.

He pulled his Spanish to him, and tried to complete the worksheet, but his mind was occupied with memories and fears and he just couldn't do it. He stood from the table, and went over to the fridge to take all the alcohol.

He carried the bottles of beer to the sink, and began opening them and pouring them down the drain. He managed to do three before he was disturbed yet again by George, this time, wanting a drink.

"What do you think you are doing?" George asked, in the threatening tone that Harry's uncle used to use when Harry was in trouble. Of course, George didn't know this, but it didn't stop Harry from being scared.

"I'm getting rid of all the alcohol; it's not good for you," Harry offered as an explanation. He drained the fourth bottle, before turning to face the tall redhead, but he wished he didn't.

"Follow me," The words were harsh, and Harry followed the man without question, his body not going with the instinct to run. There was something left of the 5 year old terrified to run from his scary guardian.

Harry stood before George in the beautifully decorated living room. The large TV was turned off, the curtains were drawn, and Harry could swear he had seen that scene before. He instantly took his glasses off, wanting to keep them in one shape, and it would help his lie for a black eye the next day.

 _I slipped in the shower._

It was an easy lie, no details, just a basic lie; nothing suspicious.

The fist came towards him and Harry closed his eyes so he didn't know when to move away. Pain blossomed in his eye, but it was okay, because he could hear George walking away.

Once George was out the room, Harry opened his eyes, and made his way back into the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas. He then headed upstairs to his room, ignoring the sobs from George's room.

The next morning, Harry dragged himself to school, his eye throbbing. He ignored the pain and found his first classroom easily, being Spanish. He was the second one there, Kurt already being in his seat, texting on his phone.

"Morning, Harry," Mr. Schue greeted, and Harry smiled at him, slipping into his chair.

"Hey Kurt," Harry greeted, and Kurt jumped about a mile into the air, making Harry giggle.

"Oh my Gucci, Harry, don't do that!" Kurt exclaimed, pouting when Harry just laughed.

"I'm quiet, and you were lost in your own world," He offered, "It's not easy to not scare you."

Kurt smiled, and realized Harry was right, "Have you decided what song you're doing for glee? We could sing together?"

It was only a suggestion, but Harry didn't want to share the knowledge of his girls yet, so his response probably came off a little cold, "I'm not sharing my song."

Kurt looked miserable for a moment, so Harry decided he needed to fix what he had said, "I don't even know what song I'm doing yet, and the person I'll be singing about, I don't need everyone knowing."

"I can keep secrets!" Kurt protested, but Harry shook his head.

"It's not that," Harry paused, "I just can't trust anyone after… well… what happened in Britain."

Kurt sighed, and left him alone as people started piling into the room.

The lesson flew by, and he soon found himself heading to English Literature with Artie while Kurt walked with Mercedes.

The lesson wasn't difficult; the teacher vanished in 10 minutes and never came back, so Harry spent it chatting with Artie and Puck, yet again deflecting the topic of himself and his past.

It was when Harry brushed his hair back with his hand that someone noticed his eye.

"Jesus Harry, who'd you get into a fight with?" Puck exclaimed, and Harry inwardly groaned, having forgotten about the throbbing in his eye.

"The bathtub; I slipped in the shower," The lie was simple but Puck didn't look like he brought it. However, he dropped the subject, but there was something in his eyes that Harry didn't like.

After the lesson, Puck walked with him to math.

"Harry, why did you move to America? And no, you cannot deflect it, this time. Just tell me, tell us. The pain is in your eyes and we can't help you if you do not tell us."

The words were softly spoken, softer that Harry imagined Puck could speak, and he couldn't help but drop his gaze.

"I can't tell you, I don't… I don't trust you enough. I don't trust anyone."

It was a lie, but Harry knew he couldn't just say 'I only trust the dead.'

They slipped into lesson and joined Kurt, but Harry could feel Puck's eyes watching his every move.

Math was simple enough that Harry ended up drawing a picture of Ginny. Her eyes were perfectly round, her freckles in the right place and her smile was fixed. It wasn't very big, only doodled on a notepad, but it was good enough for Harry. In the corner, curved around the shape of her hair, he wrote her name.

He just didn't see Kurt watching his every move.

The rest of the day flew by, and Harry found himself back in the choir room, sat between Kurt and Brittany. Almost everyone had seen his bruise, and he had managed to give the same excuse every time, so he knew he was safe this time.

By this point, he had decided which song he was going to sing, because not a day went by that he didn't think of his little girl, his Lily. Bellatrix deserved what came for her; her messy, long death.

She was Harry's first kill, and he spent the longest on her, torturing her for 3 hours, revenge for all the deaths she causes, before stabbing her and leaving her to die.

His second kill was Fenir Greyback, and he just killed him with a killing curse, not being bothered to spend time on him. Harry just didn't have the energy.

His last kill (or that was what Harry hoped to be his last killing) was Voldemort. He shot him with a muggle gun in the stomach and again in the forehead. One shot for each of his parents.

After he finished killing, he returned to the hall and brought Ginny into his lap, whispering words into her ear, telling her how sorry he was, and how much he missed her already, and telling her to look after their little girl, raise her to know her daddy, and make sure she is forever loved.

"Okay," The work brought Harry out of his thoughts, "Who would like to do their solo or duet today?"

Rachel instantly stood up and Harry focused on her, her singing slightly predictable. She had chosen a song and copied it straight. She wasn't making it her own. She had a good voice, but she had an inability to make that song her own.

 _Once you become predictable, you become vulnerable._

Moody's words didn't apply in that situation, but they came to Harry's mind anyway, and he had to fight back a smirk. It wasn't appropriate for a romantic song.

After Rachel, Brittany and Santana performed a song together, more suggestive than anything, however it showed how much they loved each other.

"Does anyone else want to perform?" Mr. Schue asked, and Harry took a deep breath, making his decision.

"I will."

Harry stood and headed to the front, making eye contact briefly with Puck, who was still watching his every move.

"Today could have been the day,  
That you blow out your candles,  
Make a wish as you close your eyes."

The words flowed easily, his eyes closing, thinking of the day Ginny pushed out the dead child, her labor been induced.

"Today could have been the day,  
Everybody was laughing,  
Instead I just sit here and cry,"

Kurt furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what Harry was trying to say, what he was trying to express, because he couldn't tell.

"Not a day goes by,  
That I don't think of you,  
I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose,  
Such a ray of light we never knew,  
Gone too soon, yeah."

Quinn looked down at her lap, realizing what Harry was singing. He had a child, just like her, but he'd do anything to have her back, and she gave her child up willingly.

Rachel covered her mouth with a horrified expression, her heart breaking for the small boy before her, singing his heart out, letting out all the hurt someone had caused him.

"Who would you be,  
What would you look like,  
Would you have my smile and her eyes?  
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life."

Harry thought back to when he held the cold body in his arms, tears dripping onto her sleeping (but not really sleeping) face. The way he vowed to kill Bellatrix that day for killing an innocent child who hadn't even been born.

"Not a day goes by,  
That I don't think of you,  
I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose,  
Such a beautiful light we never knew,  
Gone too soon,  
You were gone too soon  
Yeah.

Not a day goes by,  
That I don't think of you."

He finished the song and looked around, again finding wet eyes and Quinn sobbing into Finn's arms, even though they weren't together.

 _I can't make a habit of this._

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.


	4. Alone

AN: Hey guys, I'm glad you guys seem to be liking this so I hope you enjoy it and read on!

 **This chapter does include slight mentions of rape if you squint, and it does include self harming, but not too extreme.**

* * *

 _Alone_

Harry managed to get through the evening without even seeing George, as he wasn't home, but if the post-it note on Harry's door was anything to go by, he felt guilty for hitting him, and wouldn't be doing it anytime soon.

However, that didn't stop Harry from hurting on the inside, his heart aching for his little girl and the love of his life. He knew he'd never have a life completely free of pain, but why did he have to hurt more than the average person; especially at his age.

If God exists, Harry though, he must be a cruel bastard, because what God would put a child through so much pain?

Harry could feel himself scratching at his skin, the pain almost welcoming. A lack of pain was wrong, and he needed more. The physical pain will take away the emotional. It will make him forget.

 _Like alcohol makes George forget._

That thought was a little unnerving, and he pushed it aside, deciding that it would be a good idea just to go to bed, and get up extra early to do his homework.

After a long and loud night, Harry finally crawled out of bed at about 4:30, pulling his homework out. He did his Spanish first, then his math. The rest followed shortly, and an hour later, Harry jumped in the shower, freshening up.

He picked out a t-shirt and jeans, and threw the hoodie on over the top, hoping he didn't get too hot. He grabbed some breakfast and with a quick decision, he grabbed his car keys and drove to school for the first time.

Again, his first lesson was Spanish, so he instantly went to class, ignoring how early he was. Mr. Schue was already there, and was shocked Harry was there.

"That song you sang yesterday in Glee club … You've lost a child, haven't you?" The words were cautious, and Harry appreciated it, but it wouldn't make a difference. He'd still have to answer the question.

Being the first to class wasn't a great thing.

"Yeah, a little girl," Harry responded, not looking at the man that somehow reminded him of his father, "Ginny was six months gone when it happened, and her labour was induced. If that wasn't bad enough, Ginny was murdered a month later, leaving me all alone."

Harry thought back to something McGonagall said the day he announced he was leaving, when she thought he was out of earshot.

 _Who is going to hold him now?_

He had ignored her words, but now, thinking about it, he needed someone to hold him at night after a nightmare, someone that didn't get angry that he had woken them, because the ones that cared were gone, and he was alone.

Harry scrubbed at his cheeks, hating the fact he was crying yet again. At 2, he had learnt not to cry, but now, he can't seem to stop.

Luckily, he was saved by Kurt's appearance, and they two boys quickly engaged in a conversation, leaving Mr. Schue to his thoughts.

He had sat down and read Harry's file the night before, and realised Harry had many problems and issues that should be dealt with.

Coming from a warzone, Harry would have lost people, but Mr. Schue had no idea that there would be so many issues. He's lost not only parents, but a little girl, someone who loves him, and probably most of his friends.

He was abused by his guardians and teachers, causing Harry to be untrusting and the words he sung were the only information his new friends got from him, and Mr. Schue didn't know whether he wanted to hide the small boy from harm or find who damaged him and kill them.

Harry Potter was alone, with no one to hold him, and no one understood what that was like.

Students came piling in, distracting the three already there from hushed conversations and dangerous thoughts. Mr. Schue began the lesson, but his eyes never truly stopped watching Harry the entire time.

When the hour was up, Harry was called back to stay for a moment.

"Sir, I-" Harry began, pointing at the door.

"I just want to say I'm here if you need me," The teacher said, and Harry turned to leave the classroom. Moments before he vanished out, he threw a last comment over his shoulder.

"I've heard that before."

As Harry headed to Legal Studies, he thought about what Mr. Schue said. He knew the teacher was just trying to do his job, but it didn't help.

No matter what anyone said, what the truth was, Harry knew that he wasn't a child anymore and that he needed to cope alone. That meant not bothering anyone with his problems, and dealing with it alone.

 _But look where that got you._

The little voice in the back of his head sounded like Hermione, and he found himself shaking his head, his shoulders drooping.

He slipped into class and into his seat next to Artie, not making a sound. Artie did say hello, but Harry couldn't bring himself to respond, Hermione's voice echoing in his head.

The lesson began, and Harry didn't even bother pretending to take notes, sinking into his mind and watching Hermione dance with Ron, the brief moments of happiness they had; the quiet before the storm.

As he lost himself in the memory, the music came back to him, reminding him of how he held Ginny that night, kissing her small bump, singing soft tunes.

 _"Dance with me," Harry murmured softly to the woman, his hand resting on her bump. She didn't look up at him, but she interlinked her hand with his, and they began to sway softly to the music._

 _"Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively, "Will you make it out alive?"_

 _Harry sighed, closing his eyes. She had been dancing on the edge of the question for a long time, and he knew she'd ask soon._

 _"I don't know, my love," Harry whispered, sinking to his knees, "But I do know that I'll love you and our baby girl 'til the end of time, no matter what happens to us."_

 _He raised her top a little and kissed the bump where his baby, their baby, was growing, and he hoped she looked like her mother with Harry's eyes._

Harry was pulled back to earth by the lesson ending and he couldn't help but dash out of the room, the teacher barely finishing her dismissal. Hands on his shoulders scared him, and he swung around, raising his fist, ready to hit the person behind him. When he realised it was only Kurt he lowered his hand, but he remained tense.

"I won't be doing that again. You okay?" The question was simple, and all Harry had to do was say yes, but he was interrupted by being covered in a cold blue liquid.

"Oh, I'm so so sorry. I forgot to tell you about them!" The distressed cry from Kurt came, however, Harry couldn't see him due to his glasses being blue, "That is Karofsky and Azimio, the bullies of our school."

"Oh, okay… Kurt, could you help me to the toilets; I can't see."

Sounding flustered, Kurt continued apologising as they made their way to the bathroom, Harry trusting Kurt with his life in that second, "It's my entire fault. If I hadn't introduced myself, you wouldn't have been slushied."

"Kurt, stop fussing!" Harry snapped, taking his glasses off and putting his bag on the side, nearly missing it by an inch. Kurt had quietened, and just stood there.

Harry turned the tap on and splashed his face with water, trying to rid himself of the blue stains. He then ran his glasses under the tap and slid them onto his face.

"Why'd they do it, Kurt?" Harry asked softly, opening his bag to find his spare t-shirt. Kurt mumbled his response, so Harry asked him to repeat himself, which Kurt did with no question.

"They did it because I'm gay." The words frightened Harry, his hands stilling in his bag.

 _Relax; he's not your Uncle, Harry._

Again, Hermione spoke up, and again, it was no comfort. Harry knew this would be unavoidable, but his newest friend; no, he couldn't do it.

"Um, Kurt, I'm going to get changed. You go to math, I'll meet you there."

Harry wasn't sure what he was scared of, Kurt hurting him, or Kurt being disgusted in the sight of his marred body.

"Okay, good luck getting that out your hair, I'll see you in a bit," Kurt said, and Harry could tell he had hurt him, but he couldn't bear to lose him so soon, no matter how little Harry trusted him.

Harry shrugged off the stained hoodie, and shoved it into a plastic bag, frowning. He hit his hair with a quick cleaning spell, then dampening it with the water. Then, he pulled out the spare tee in his bag, closing his eyes as he pulled the dirty one off, and slipped the clean one on. He opened his eyes again, and stuffed the tee into the plastic bag. He shoved it in the bag, glad it made no difference to the weight of the bag, and left for class, hoping Kurt didn't question him.

When he got out of math, Kurt hadn't even spoken to him, and just kept his eyes on his phone or his work. However, Harry knew he was upset with him the moment Mercedes stormed up to him, a death glare on her (usually) kind face.

"You're a homophobe?" She hissed, dragging him away from the crowds of students, her tight grip making Harry uncomfortable.

"No, I am not," Harry began, snatching his wrist back, "I was going to ask him to leave anyway, it was just bad timing. I knew many gay people, trust me; I have no problem with them."

Mercedes shook her head, disbelieving of his words.

"Really, Mercedes, it's true. I've just had bad experiences with men in the same room as me when I'm getting changed, and it makes me uncomfortable, even if there is a barrier. I'd tell you why, but that would be telling you my life story, so maybe another day."

His tone became a bit lighter, but inside, he was terrified. He had just found out his friend was gay, Hermione was driving him insane and his throat was hurting from last night when he spent most of it screaming.

The truth of being alone was kicking in, and it was starting to scare him.

As Harry turned to walk to his next lesson, Mercedes caught his arm with a horrified gasp, and Harry's eyes welled with tears as she uttered the words he feared the most.

"Your arm…"

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.


	5. Dangerous Times

AN: Hey guys, I'm glad you guys seem to be liking this so I hope you enjoy it and read on!

 **This chapter does include slight mentions of rape if you squint, and it does include a suicide attempt.**

* * *

 _Desperate Times_

He found his feet running, escaping the school, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face Kurt, or anyone, and now Mercedes knows about his arms, she was going to tell them, and he just couldn't do it.

He was somewhat glad he'd brought his car in, for the fact he could drive home without question, and no one else had to see him. Not yet, he wasn't ready.

He also hoped Kurt wouldn't be phoning the home phone. He had given Kurt his number the day before, and he knew there was a possibility he'd call up with questions.

Questions Harry couldn't answer.

As Harry drove, he sobbed softly, his heart hurting again, and he couldn't make it go away. By the time he got home, he was a sobbing mess, and he needed to be held. He wanted Ginny more than ever before, because he wanted to hold her, for her to hold him, and cry together.

However, the only person home was George, and he was drunk, again, slurring his words, "What are you doing home, freak?"

Harry had only just shut the door and he felt like he was 7 again when his teacher sent him home with a tummy bug and no one came for him.

"I couldn't cope," The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the thunderous look on George's face made Harry wonder if he should have stayed at school.

However, the look gave way to pity, and George opened his arms. Harry, being as weak as he was, stumbled forward, his heart breaking further than it already was, and didn't expect the blow that sent him flying backwards into the front door.

"How dare you? We've all lost something in this war! It doesn't mean you can get away with moping about all day and using it as an excuse. And anyway, why should you get to be so upset? You're the one who killed them, remember?"

Harry sunk to the floor, sobs wracking his body, an idea coming to his mind. George vanished into the kitchen, and Harry crawled up the stairs into his room. He managed to sit up on the chair and he pulled out a pen and piece of paper.

 _Dear everyone,_

 _I'm sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry that I don't think sorry cuts it anymore, but that's okay; I can't think of another word to use._

 _I've only been attending McKinley High for three days and I've pissed off my first friend there and someone saw. The secret keeping is breaking me, and I want to tell you so my, and I fucking can't and it hurts._

 _I want my mum and dad, I want Padfoot and Moony, I really want Hermione and Ron, and I can't live a second longer without Ginny or my little girl._

 _So, I guess this is goodbye. I'd ask George to burn all my belongings, but I don't believe he is even sober enough to be reading this, so I'll leave that down to anyone who has the time. I do not want a funeral; I just want my body to be taken back to England and buried with Ginny under the tree._

 _I'm sorry, Kurt, for making you think I'm homophobic. Truth is, I am uncomfortable with most people and men in particular. Unfortunately, I do have one experience with a gay man I really wouldn't want to repeat, and just the thought terrified me, even though I know you wouldn't even consider it._

 _George, I'm sorry for killing your family. I just turned up at the wrong time. Now, you can be happy; I'll never hurt anyone again._

 _I've got nothing left to live for, and I guess this is goodbye. Thank you to Kurt, Mercedes and everyone else in Glee Club that made my last few days good ones, it just… It isn't enough, and never will be. You can't replace them._

 _With all the love that is left in me,_  
 _Harry James Potter_

Harry folded the letter, and slid it into an envelope, titling it, 'to whom it may concern', before heading into the bathroom.

He put the envelope on the side, out of the way, before opening the medicine cabinet. He knew Tylenol would take forever to kill him, putting that straight out the window. The rest were sobering potions and dreamless sleep, designed to look like pill bottles to muggles.

Damnit.

Okay, Harry thought, overdose was out the window. He looked over at his razor, knowing his nails weren't long enough to do the job.

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, and then got to work, removing the blade. He removed his shirt, and started running a bath, deciding he'd put on an act, just in case George came up.

Once he got the blade out, he stared at it, a little smile forming on his lips. He began humming as he pressed the blade to his skin, dragging across the section he had always avoided, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Downstairs, the doorbell had rung, and with a quick sobering potion, George found himself opening the door.

On the other side, was a tall man in a vest, shirt and tie. Of course a teacher would show up; Harry had skipped school.

"Mr Weasley, am I correct?" The man asked, and George nodded.

"Yes, is this about Harry leaving school early?" George asked softly, keeping his tone friendly. George hated Harry, but no one else could know that, could they?

"Um, yeah. I'm his Spanish teacher, and the leader of Glee club, and I just brought his homework from his last two lessons, and I was hoping I could have a chat with him," The man said and George swallowed nervously.

He knew Harry's intentions were suicidal and he didn't want to interrupt the dangerous activities he was up to, but he would have to.

"Okay, I'll take you through to the living room and then I'll call for Harry. What is your name?" George said, beckoning the man in and shutting the door.

"William Schuester. I only brought it because Kurt was panicking about Harry," The man said, and George nodded like he had a clue what William was talking about.

William.

William Weasley.

The first brother Harry killed.

A thud from upstairs startled the two men, and George called up, "Harry, are you okay?"

With no response, the two men ran up the stairs, two at a time, and when Harry's room was empty, he tried the bathroom.

"Harry, I know you aren't going to like this so you better respond to me," George said in his most caring but strict voice he could manage.

When there was nothing, George tried to open the door, but it was locked, and even throwing his body weight against the door didn't help, so with a silent 'Alohomora', the door opened, and there Harry was, shirtless and bleeding to death. He noted the letter on the side, and knelt on the floor, checking for a pulse, as William called an ambulance, in shock at the sight of Harry's back, his body covered in scars.

George just hoped they'd be too late.

Once at the hospital, William was making phone calls, and George had only made one to McGonagall. He knew she would blame him, and he dreaded 9 hours' time when she turned up with Luna in tow.

Two kids had turned up, and they seemed guilty, like they blamed themselves, and George decided he'd let them feel that way while he went for a coffee.

"Kurt, Mercedes, while Mr. Weasley is gone, I need you to read this. I think he's been abusing Harry, and I just need confirmation," Mr Schue said, handing them the letter.

Kurt scanned over it, tears pooling in his eyes, and he realised it wasn't him, it was just memories of being attacked.

As Kurt got to the next paragraph he gasped and began reading aloud, "George, I'm sorry for killing your family. I just turned up at the wrong time. Now, you can be happy; I'll never hurt anyone again."

"No," Mercedes interrupted, "George made him think like that. Harry was very involved in the British war, I believe, he was the one to end it, it was in the British papers, so I don't think he did. He may have accidentally caused it, but I don't think it was his fault. He didn't fire the gun."

Mr. Schue sighed, draping his arm around a crying Kurt and holding him close, "We'll have to wait 'til he wakes up."

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.


	6. Broken

AN: Hey guys, I'm updating this a little earlier than I would like, due to Harry and JK's birthdays, and the book release of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. This is my longest chapter as of yet, so please enjoy a lengthy read.

* * *

 _Broken_

It was 3am when Minerva McGonagall showed up with a girl with dirty blonde hair in tow. They both were clutching a coffee and they looked exhausted. The girl also looked like she had been crying, but she perked up at the sight of two teenagers sleeping on each other.

Will had tried to send them home, but after getting permission from their parents, he relented, allowing them to stay. Mercedes kept muttering things under her breath that neither man understood, and she glared at the door until she fell asleep, cursing George Weasley for never returning.

Kurt had cried for a while, but with Mr. Schue's comfort, he eventually dropped off to sleep, resting his head on Mercedes shoulder. She had wrapped an arm around the thin boy, her mutterings never pausing for a second, and in the silence, Mr. Schue thought he caught her train of thought.

"I didn't tell. My fault; I didn't tell. I should have told someone."

Her mutterings didn't even sound like Mercedes, but he left her too it, not sure if he was hearing right, and eventually, sleep overtook her.

When McGonagall entered the room, a harsh look upon her face, her eyes scanned the room, narrowing as they landed on the three in the corner.

"Where is Mr. Weasley?" The woman said, her voice stern like she was talking to a two year old and Mr. Schue felt slightly intimidated.

"He left the hospital hours ago. He's passed out in his bathroom in his own vomit. I told you he shouldn't have come with Harry."

The words came from the blonde girl, and her big dreamy eyes contradicted her words. Obviously, there were definitely issues with George Weasley being Harry's guardian.

"Thank you, Luna, and I will not ask how you know that." The lady said, not even looking at her. The blonde girl, Luna, smiled at the small praise, and went to sit beside Mercedes, smiling fondly at the sleeping teenager.

Mr. Schue stood up, "I'm guessing you are Minerva McGonagall. George told me you were coming before he left 'for a coffee'. I'm William Schuester, Harry's teacher."

She held out her hand, and they shook, her firm grasp pleasing, "I taught Harry, but I looked after him too; it was my job as his head of house. I know him better than most."

"Glad someone does. We're still waiting to see him, so you might want to have a seat." William murmured, gesturing to the seat beside the one he was originally sat in.

Luna was humming sadly, playing with a strand of hair, her eyes filled with tears. She stood from her seat and went to the window where the doctors were surrounding his bed, and she knew he had gone into cardiac arrest again.

That was the fourth time, and Luna wasn't sure if she was able to watch him be resuscitated again.

She turned away, and looked over to the Spanish teacher talking softly to her headmistress, and she suddenly realised what needed to happen.

Luna's life was full of sudden realisations and 'just knowing's, and although no one, not even her father, understood, it was like her mind was needed, especially for Harry.

"Harry needs you, and you need him."

The words may have been too quiet for the man to hear, but McGonagall turned her head, watching Luna slip out the door, needing the cold early morning air… and a cigarette.

She was found leaning against the wall by the teacher about half hour later, her cigarette between her fingers, and sobs on her lips.

William embraced the 16 year old girl, and he felt her fingers clutch onto his vest.

"It's my fault he's here," Luna sobbed, her shoulders shaking, "If I wasn't so clumsy, so fucking out of it, he wouldn't be here. He'd have his little girl, and he'd have Ginny. He'd have a reason to live."

He didn't say anything, but he held her tighter, sniffling slightly.

By the time the two had composed themselves and made their way back into the hospital, Minerva was sitting with Harry, holding his hand and talking to him.

"I sent you with George, and I agreed with him that it would be best. I ignored his drinking and Luna's concerns and gave into him, and I shouldn't have. I've failed you again, and this time I don't think I can fix it this time."

"You can," A voice from the doorway caught her attention, and she looked over at the tall man, surprised, "He hasn't died this time, so there is still time to make things better. However, he may succeed next time, and then there will be nothing for you to fix because you were too late."

His words cut straight through her, and she looked down at her lap like she had been scolded, but the man continued, his voice now softer, "I think you ought to get some sleep. Luna has planned to go to a hotel and get some rest, so I think you should join him. I'm taking the day off; I'm in no state to teach and I doubt the kids are going to school, either. Leave me a phone number and I'll contact you when he wakes, and when he's been moved to the wards."

The lady composed herself, and passed him a card with her mobile number on it, standing to leave.

"Don't break him like we did. I don't think we'd be able to put him back together."

The words sounded broken in themselves, and her beaten tone proved it. As she slipped away, Will took her seat, taking Harry's hand into his own.

"You are one of my kids now, Harry, and that means you matter to me. You have so much to live for, and we're all here for you, no matter what you've done. The only thing that disgusts me about this entire situation is the people who did this to you."

Will brushed his fingers across Harry's forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. His glasses had been broken in his fall, but Will would sort an eye appointment, because something in his gut told him George wouldn't.

"Mr. Schue?" Came a tired voice, and Will smiled. Kurt was awake.

Will stood and slipped out of the room, finding both Kurt and Mercedes waking up, Mercedes stretching and Kurt rubbing his eyes. William looked down at his watch and saw that it was only 5am, and he hadn't slept in over 24 hours.

"Is Harry okay?" Mercedes asked, her eyes searching him for an answer. Will sighed, lowering his gaze.

"Physically, yes; he will make a full recovery, however the emotional side may take a little longer. He isn't awake yet, but you can go and see him. Then I suggest you go home, have a shower, get changed and come back. Your parents are aware of the situation, and have already made plans to call the school so you can have the day off," Will paused for a moment, thinking over things for a second, "I also suggest contacting the other glee club members and telling them not to go to rehearsal, but they may visit after school. Understand?"

The two nodded, and Mercedes rushed into the room, wanting to see him.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'll make sure you know how loved you are when you wake up, I promise." Her words were whispered in his ear, tears glistening on her cheeks and after pressing a kiss to his forehead like a mother would their child, she left, allowing Kurt to have his moment.

"I'm sorry I assumed the worst of you when you asked me to leave, it didn't occur to me that you may be genuinely uncomfortable with men. I hope you forgive me."

His words were not as heartfelt as Mercedes, but he had no idea what had happened between the two, her only words to him about Harry being, "He isn't homophobic. Don't be so quick to judge."

As he left the room, he didn't see the tear slip down Harry's cheek, the broken boy having been awake since McGonagall left, "I'm sorry, too."

When Mercedes and Kurt returned, clean and freshly clothed, Harry was being moved up to the wards. Mr. Schue was walking along aside the bed with a girl who had dirty blonde hair. Harry seemed to be awake, tears sliding down his cheeks, his soft sobs seeming louder than they were due to the echo of the corridor.

Mercedes and Kurt followed wordlessly, making brief eye contact with their teacher, who tried to smile at them but he just couldn't. The pain of watching a child suffer like this was too great, so he kept his eyes on Harry, softly brushing his hair back and trying to sooth his pain.

The blonde girl didn't look up at them, but Kurt could have sworn she somewhat relaxed as Mr. Schue made eye contact with them, but he couldn't understand how she would know.

When the nurses pushed Harry into a private room, the blonde girl and Mr. Schue stayed with Mercedes and Kurt as the staff got him settled, taking a seat outside.

"Hello Kurt, Mercedes, I'm Luna. I am an old friend of Harry's, but I'm glad he has made new ones."

The moments she finished her greeting, she left their line of sight, and the three humans assumed she went to get a coffee.

The nurse came out, her blue eyes pained and lost as she made eye contact with the teacher sat next to the two children, "Mr. Schuester, Harry is asking for his guardian. Shall I attempt to contact him, or shall I just contact the children's services for blatant neglect?"

The words were practically spat, as George's disappearance yesterday hadn't been taken too lightly; a teacher who had known the child for three days was more willing to stay than his own guardian. Who even did that?

"Um…" Mr. Schue was stuck; he had never been in this situation before, he wasn't sure what to do, "I don't know. Can I go and see him, though? I've got a feeling he won't take very lightly to decisions being made for him."

The nurse smiled and nodded, gesturing to the door. Mr. Schue stood, and with a final glance at the two teenagers who were discussing songs to sing for Harry, an idea in his own mind for that, he entered the room.

Harry was now sat up, his sobs having subsided, but the tears still slipped down his cheeks. His wrists were bandaged and his hands were folded in his lap, "They want to call children's services, don't they."

Although it was worded like a question, it was a statement, and Mr. Schue nodded, taking a seat.

"Luna said that I should let what happens happen, and when it comes, make the right decision. Is this that decision?"

The teacher sighed, leaning forward, "I don't know, but I do know that this is your life. I know you were abused growing up, and I know you were in the middle of the British war."

The man paused, looking for any signs of further distress before continuing, "Moving into a stranger's house isn't an option for you, and for sure, if they call children's services, you will go into foster care. I suggest you find someone you truly trust, not out of obligation, and have them come to you."

Harry nodded slowly, biting his lip, "Can you get Luna?"

As he murmured the words, she came around the corner, peering into the room with a coffee in hand, "Hey Harry."

As Mr. Schue got up to leave, he felt a hand on his arm. It was Harry's and his green eyes looked up with him with such an innocence that hurt, "Thank you."

The man nodded and exited to find Mercedes and Kurt arguing over which song they wanted to go for him, so he sat down and decided he'd throw something in that was completely different.

"How about Skin by Sixx AM? It would probably be a good one for him to feel more than those. It's comforting, and it shows that you can see him, not what he looks or seems like."

The two looked at him, and Kurt looked vaguely impressed, "Hm. Hadn't even thought of that."

"Once Luna has come out, you should go in and see him. I think it'll do him good to see that you care, even though you've only known him a few days."

The two nodded, and then began discussing how they were going to perform for him and when. After 20 minutes, Luna came out, and she smiled. She handed him a coffee that had been on the table, and replaced Mercedes' seat, smiling.

"Harry trusts you, y'know. Not very much, but he trusts you more than he trusts me at this precise moment, which is saying something. Harry trusts no one," She said, grabbing a magazine, "I heard what you said to him, and I agree with part of it, but I think, no, I know that Harry doesn't need anyone from home. He needs somewhere and someone new; someone who can teach him the difference in attempted murder and a friendly handshake, someone who can salvage what is left of his childhood and someone who can love him without a thought to what he's done. And although I only know one person who can do all that, Harry has to make that choice and pick him to be his saviour, his friend and his confident."

Mr. Schue nodded slowly, taking in the speech she had just given while flicking through a magazine, "And who might that be?"

"You."

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.


	7. Posture Always Perfect

AN: Okay, I really sobbed as I wrote this chapter, and it took me forever to write. I laughed a few times through my tears at my typos (In one of my sentences I had put 'cake' instead of 'care', and I found it really funny for some reason), but other than that, I pretty much sobbed my way through. I also had miserable music on to help me write, so I'm gonna blame it on the music.

Songs sung:  
Skin by Sixx A.M

* * *

 _Posture Always Perfect_

"Where is Mr. Schue? Why isn't he here?"

That was the first question that was asked as Mercedes and Kurt entered the choir room, their heads low.

After a chat with Harry, they discovered he hadn't had a nice life.

His parents died when he was only a baby, leaving him with the single memory of his mum's screams as she was brutally murdered. He was sent to live with his aunt and uncle, one who abused him for years, the other protecting him as long as she could. Then a man came and took him to 'a great boarding school' where they trained him to kill other people who 'the light' deemed 'bad'.

The 17 year old had suffered more than anyone they knew, and honestly, they weren't certain he could be fixed, but Kurt and Mercedes would give it their best shot with the whole of glee club standing behind them, no matter what.

"And where've you been all day? I've been worried sick, I thought something had happened to one of you," Rachel cried, obviously unhappy with not being told. Finn comforted her by putting an arm around her shoulders, and she calmed a little, but there was still a fire in her eyes.

"Yesterday, Harry attempted suicide. He's awake in hospital, and Mr. Schue is with him, because his guardian didn't care enough to stay," Mercedes said, her anger shining through, "Although Mr. Schue told us to cancel Glee today, Kurt and I decided we'd do something for Harry, to show him that someone cares, even if he doesn't."

"We'd like you guys to do it with us, and that's why we're here. It's also something we could do for Sectionals this year if it's good enough," Kurt paused for a moment, and the moment he saw Rachel opening her mouth, he added, "And Rachel, no, you are not having a solo for this song."

She looked horrified, "I'm the best singer in this group; I should at least have a verse to myself to show how good we are!"

"Listen here, Rachel, you don't know a thing about Harry Potter! This is for him and him only, because it means something to us. And for your information, you are not the best singer in this group, Harry is, and this is performance is from me and Kurt, not you. You haven't got a clue what that little boy has been through and he needs someone to take care of him. This is not about winning, this performance we are planning is for Harry, and we can use it at Sectionals, having Harry as the soloist, not you."

Mercedes was practically in tears as she finished her mini-rant at Rachel, and Kurt shook his head, not believing Rachel would put herself first.

"Kurt, Harry will be okay, right?" Puck's voice drew everyone's attention, the way it was fused with guilt and shyness. Puck was never shy, yet he sounded it.

Kurt nodded, knowing Puck had developed a soft spot for the boy with the green eyes the moment they met, "Yeah, he'll be fine."

"Hold on, Sectionals are ages away, not 'til after summer, isn't it a bit early?" Finn said, his arm around Rachel.

"It's never too early," Mercedes said, sighing.

Puck sighed, looking down at his feet, and Finn asked them just to sing the song to give them a taste of what they were working with.

The two at the front nodded, and music filled the room, the gentle sound of the piano almost creepy.

Mercedes brushed back her hair, taking a deep breath before beginning the first verse, "Paint yourself a picture  
Of what you wish you looked like  
Maybe then they just might  
Feel an ounce of your pain"

Her voice was wavering, but Kurt slipped his hand into hers to offer comfort as he began the second verse, tears welling in his eyes, "Come into focus  
Step out of the shadows  
It's a losing battle  
There's no need to be ashamed"

Thinking of what Luna Lovegood said, the way he was made into a hero the moment he walked, well, crawled, away from a mass murdered alive with only a scar upon his forehead, their words were powered by the anger that followed her words, "'Cause they don't even know you  
All they see is scars  
They don't see the angel  
Living in your heart

Let them find the real you  
Buried deep within  
Let them know with all you've got  
That you are not your skin"

Swiping away a stray tear, thinking of what Harry had said about his gay uncle who married a woman for keep his parents happy, Mercedes started her next verse, her pain showing through, "When they start to judge you  
Show them your true colors  
And do unto others  
As you'd have done to you"

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, not wanting to ruin the song due to loud sobs he just wouldn't be able to hold in any longer, "Just rise above this  
Kill them with your kindness  
Ignorance is blindness  
They're the ones that stand to lose"

As the chorus kicked in again, Puck joined in, his voice deep and low in a comforting tone, his hand on his heart like the was trying to trap the pain he was feeling, because he knew.

He knew Harry was being abused the moment he saw Harry's black eye, and he ignored his gut instinct and kept his mouth shut. He knew Harry did it to himself, but he could have done more; maybe told someone, or confronted him about it face to face rather than drop tiny hints.

"'Cause they don't even know you  
All they see is scars  
They don't see the angel  
Living in your heart

So, let them find the real you  
Buried deep within  
Let them know with all you've got  
That you are not  
You are not your skin"

As they repeated the chorus one last time, the rest joined in, Rachel still sniffling from being turned away, but she joined in, not wanting to be excluded completely.

Most of them had suspected something had been up with Harry, due to the way he held himself, his back straight, his posture always perfect.

Rachel had just thought he had been taught to hold himself that was as a child so now, no matter what, he always held himself straight, which was a good thing.

A phrase drifted across Puck's mind, and with his eyes downcast, he finally understood the true meaning.

 _The back is where the blows are given – and taken._

As they finished the song, Brittany stood from her chair and dashed out sobbing, her hands clutching her uniform. Santana made to follow her, but Kurt stopped her, sending Mercedes after her.

In the bathroom, Brittany's mind was screaming at her, the guilt eating at her. She had known what had happened to the cub all along and she didn't say anything, unsure if they'd think she was a nutter, like always.

Even Santana thought she was mad when she mentioned that Lord Tubbington was talking to her, even though he really was, and he was telling her what was going to happen, and she just needed someone to believe her for once.

"Brittany?" The soft voice of Mercedes came, and Brittany couldn't help but throw herself at the girl, sobbing into her clothes.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry that I didn't say anything! I knew! I knew and I didn't say because I thought they would judge me!" Her cries were slightly muffled, but they were still loud enough for Mercedes to hear, so the big girl just wrapped her arms around the petite blonde, who was still trying to explain herself, "He just wants his mummy and daddy and we can't bring them back, and he's still a cub that needs protection from the monsters, and all they've done is feed him to them instead!"

Horrified at Brittany's knowledge, Mercedes wondered whether psychics were real, because no one had told Brittany this stuff… wait, did she say cub?

"Brittany, did you say cub?" Her shocked words made the blonde pull away, her hands pulling at her hair.

"I don't know! He's a cub or a fawn or a pup!" The girl was a mess, and Mercedes wasn't sure what to do, but somehow, Luna Lovegood came to the rescue. How, Mercedes didn't know, but the girl seemed to be a bit like Brittany, and maybe that could be a comfort.

"He's all three," Luna whispered, drawing the Cheerio in, "He's his mummy's cub, his daddy's fawn and Moony and Padfoot's pup. I know it's a little confusing, but I'll make the wrackspurts go away, and your head will clear, okay."

"Okay," Brittany said, and Luna gestured for Mercedes to leave, and she exited the bathroom, finding the whole of Glee club waiting.

"What's wrong with Brittany? Is she okay?" Santana's worried voice came and Mercedes turned to her, anger boiling.

"She wouldn't have been sobbing her heart out in there if everyone took her seriously, and Harry may not be in hospital. She knew. How do I know that she isn't lying? Because somehow she knows of Harry's parent's deaths, and of what he is to his family. So don't give me that damn crap. Now, I am going back to the hospital, I'll see you Monday."

"Wait for me, I'm coming too." Luna said, coming out, "I have something to tell you."

The two walked away, and Luna began speaking the moment they were out of earshot.

"You are right; psychics are real, but there three types. There are ones that make predictions once in a blue moon and they can change the status of the world. The one I know is the entire reason for this mess; without her, Harry wouldn't have been made hero. Then there are ones like me, that are tied in with one particular person all their live and just know what's going to happen with them but can't say too much, and ones like Brittany who don't just know, they feel it, every day. They feel the pain a person is going through, they know what might happen, and they often rationalism their thoughts through talking animals or worse; teddy bears that apparently come to life."

Mercedes' eyes widened, and realized she needed to pay more attention to the reality of the world around her.

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review.


	8. Living Arrangements

AN: Hey guys, I am getting really excited, and I really want to publish all the chapters I have written so far, but that would defeat the purpose of writing ahead. I'm midway through chapter 15 (no spoilers), and I'm struggling a little. I've been working on this for about 7 weeks, and I've written 25 thousand words. I may be proud of me, but you can read all that yet... Sorry. I am also thinking of uploading a few little outtakes that I've ended up changing my mind on putting in for future reference. Let me know what you think of that in the reviews.

 **This chapter does include rape of a minor, but it is nothing too detailed, and no descriptions.**

* * *

 _Living Arrangements_

" _Potter!" The shout of George Weasley came, and Harry skidded into the kitchen, not wanting to upset him. He looked up at George (have I shrunk?) and waited for more words to come, and they did._

" _You know, if you weren't so stupid, I wouldn't have died. If you had left Luna to get up herself, our baby wouldn't have died and I wouldn't have been at the fight to die. Luna is perfectly capable." Ginny spat from beside George, holding a bundle in her arms._

" _She's right, Harry. You know Luna isn't an invalid, so why stop?" George asked advancing on him. With a quick glimpse, Harry could see that the baby in Ginny's arms was pale and dead, much like he remembered her body being._

" _She would have died," Came Harry's weak excuse, his voice childlike. Oh, he was 7 years old again, great._

" _Freak!" Came the angry shout of his uncle, "Take down your trousers and turn around."_

 _Harry found himself complying, and he felt himself being bent over the table, and he screamed from the pain of being torn in half._

Awaking from his nightmare, Harry sat up, shaking. He glanced at the clock, realising he'd only been out for an hour, and nothing had changed.

The silence in the hospital room was deafening. Mr. Schue had been pulled out by a doctor earlier, and they were still talking outside, Harry able to see them through the single glass pane in the door.

McGonagall had stopped by to see him but she hadn't stayed long, a phone call from the minister interrupting her and she had to go, but not without promising she'd be back later. Apparently, it was to do with finding a new guardian for Harry with Luna's orders, but Harry didn't quite know what that actually entailed.

The doctor had stopped by to tell him that a psychiatric nurse would come by and see him, and if he is deemed well enough and had someone to take care of him, he could go home.

Luna had been doing her usual thing, dropping hints and suggestions without saying anything outright, but Harry always knew what she was referring to. She was suggesting that he should ask a teacher to take him in, so he could have a complete fresh start and never have to consider death again.

Of course, he hadn't stopped considering death since he was 14 years old and he watched Cedric Diggory die. But they didn't need to know that, did they?

Thinking about what Luna said, what teacher could he ask to take him in? He barely knew any of them, well, except Mr. Schuester.

William Schuester was the only logical option, he had stayed the entire time, not even leaving to get some sleep. It showed he was loyal and that he cared more than anyone else, even if they barely knew each other.

However, could he cope?

As Harry wondered this, the man in question came in, clutching yet another cup of coffee.

 _I swear that man has drunk his body weight in coffee, today. Well, at least it's Friday._

"Hey, Harry, how you holding up?" He asked, and Harry couldn't help sigh at the stupid question.

"I'm bored. I just wanna go home," Harry said, and it was Mr. Schue's turn to sigh.

"Yeah, um… The doctor who was talking to me just now… George was brought in about half hour ago. He didn't make it. The staff thought it would be better if I told you."

Harry nodded, taking the information in. Of course, it bothered him, but it probably didn't hurt as much as it should have. His last link to Ginny was gone, but Harry knew that George had been gone since the day Fred died, hours after Ginny's death.

"Harry, are you alright?" The man asked, surprised at Harry's silence.

"Yeah, I've been waiting for his official death, to be honest with you. The George I knew and loved died with his twin brother."

"Oh… Look, now that you definitely do not have a guardian…" Harry cut the man off before he could go any further, an idea already planted in his mind.

"I can't go back to England, and I can't expect anyone to pack up and come here for me, so I have to find a guardian here, and I don't really know anyone."

"Harry, don't panic; you're not alone. I was considering, with your consent, obviously, whether it would be a good idea to take you in until you are legally allowed to live alone, at least, but it can be as long as you wish if you are happy."

The words rang around in Harry's head, _if you are happy_ , and he smiled, "That would be great, but I'm not sure my stuff could fit in your house unless you live in a massive one. I own the one I live in currently, and well…"

The teacher laughed, "I saw how big your home was, Harry, and if it would make you more comfortable, we can move in there, if you'd like."

"I'd like that."

The man nodded, and said that he'd go and tell the doctor that Harry could go home with him, and things would all work out. As the man left, Harry wondered if he'd miss George. He knew he'd miss the jokes and the old times, but he wouldn't miss the man George became.

If there was one person Harry didn't miss, it was Albus Dumbledore. It was his fault for Harry's fucked up life. He acted all grandfatherly and nice, but he was a manipulative bastard who wanted a child to play hero.

However, when he met Dumbledore on the last night when Voldemort fired that final killing curse, he forgot all his hatred, and just asked what would happen. He forgot to ask all the answered questions; the ones that mattered.

 _Why do I have to play hero? Why am I the boy-who-just-won't-die? Why did mum step aside? Why didn't you save me?_

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review, criticism is always welcome


	9. Rules

AN: I lied. I couldn't double the word count for this one. I tried, I really did, but I couldn't. I'm sorry.

* * *

 _Rules_

Harry sighed, turning over the letter in his hands. It was something he had found in George's room, and he had recognised the handwriting instantly.

It was a letter that Hermione had written in the 6th year, ready for Harry's future guardian if she wasn't around. She had kept it and had given it to 'whoever is appointed Harry's guardian' in her will, instantly going to George.

It was unopened and the parchment felt rough in his hands, something so familiar bringing painful memories. He held it to his chest, savouring the feel, before making his way down the stairs.

"Mr Schue?" Harry called out, unsure of which room the teacher was in. The man came out the living room.

"Harry, I've told you. When outside of school, you can call me Will," The man softly scolded, but his relaxed posture told Harry that he wasn't in trouble.

"I forgot, um, this is for you… It's important," Harry said quickly, passing him the envelope and turning to bolt up the stairs.

Will held the letter, noting it was parchment and very expensive. He turned it over to open it, noting it was sealed with a strange stamp with _Hogwarts_ written on it. He shrugged, and opened it anyway, heading back into the living room.

He had been marking some Spanish tests, and now he had to read this important letter. It was much more interesting, to say the least.

He pulled out yet another piece of parchment, and an entire page of perfect handwriting was filled with probably one of the most important rules in his life.

 _Dear whomever this may concern,_

 _My name is Hermione Granger; Harry's best friend, confident and sister in everything but blood. I love him very much, and I must make sure that he is given the best possible care that you can give him._

 _I will not be able to look after him, due to the fact that this war will take my life and leave him to end it alone, and I am writing this so I know Harry will be cared for correctly, and they can try to right all the wrongs in Harry's life._

 _Therefore, there are rules you must follow to ensure that he and you are happy and your lives are slightly easier._

 _Rules:_

 _Allow him to lock the door when he is getting changed and having a bath or shower. However, this may be ignored if Harry is having a danger night. There are notes at the end that explains_ _what a danger night is for Harry, and what needs to happen on those days._

 _Allow him to stay up as long as he wishes; even on a school night. Harry is used to staying up all night, and could easily last three days without sleep. He will sleep when he needs to, but don't try to force him. Those nights will be nightmare filled and he will not get any decent sleep._

 _Ensure Harry eats two small meals a day. Harry will frequently forget to eat, and he could last weeks on only a few slices of bread. Although this is probably a good thing in these times, when this war is over, Harry will need to build his weight up._

 _Never be the first to initiate any physical contact; whether that may be a pat on the shoulder or a full on hug. Just don't do it. You'll either end up with a broken nose or a punch to the gut on a bad day. On a good day, he'll realise before he actually hits you, but it's not always enough. Harry may even tell you why someday._

 _Danger nights are exactly that. His life is on the line during those nights. He can become highly suicidal and angry on these nights, and I wouldn't leave him alone for a millisecond, let alone let him shut a door or lock it. He may spend his time screaming at you, telling you he doesn't care and wants you to leave him alone._

 _Just ignore his words. If he begins to pull at his hair or scratch at his skin, you may restrain Harry, holding his hands and humming a soft tune. It'll settle him, and he'll probably end up crying into your clothing, but it doesn't mean that the night is over. It will be an endless cycle and Harry will push you away. Please ignore it, and be patient with him; he needs you._

 _Please take this seriously. Harry needs you more than you could ever imagine._  
 _Hermione Granger._

The letter was dated March 17th, 2011, which meant that it was written just over a year ago, and he realised that Harry was much more broken than anyone ever realised, and Harry needed someone to love him.

He put the letter down with shaky hands, his breathing coming in shallow breaths.

 _Never be the first to initiate any physical contact._

Will wondered who had the heart to harm someone with such an innocent heart that Harry owned. Who made him scared of a congratulatory pat on the back, or being held like a child?

Danger nights? Who hurt Harry enough for him to consider death like that? Who hurt him enough to consider hurting himself?

Words drifted to him, and Will found himself choking back sobs and he realised that Harry was _that_ child; the child who killed the leader of the terrorist attacks in London, the abused child that had his past held against him, his fears used to make him stronger while making the actual fear worse.

Harry James Potter was a child that was alone and scared and just wanted (no, needed) someone to hold him.

William stood, and headed up the stairs, knocking on Harry's door before entering, finding Harry asleep on the bed. He was fully clothed, and it was only midday, but he hadn't slept in 28 hours, and he was dead to the world.

So he crept over to the child and knelt beside the bed, his words choked up, "I will love you, and take care of you for the rest of your life. I will be the father you never had, and I'll make you better you're sick, and I'll hold you when you're sad and be everything you need me to be. I promise."

Although Harry was unaware of it, William pressed a soft kiss to the child's forehead, and crept out the room, unaware of the dream Harry was having.

" _Hello, Harry," Luna said, leaning against the wall._

 _Harry paused, and looked up at her, ignoring the man across him that had frozen in place. The clock had stopped, and things had frozen in time._

" _What're you doing here?" Harry asked somewhat cautiously. The types of dreams didn't usually turn out good._

" _I'm just passing through. How are things?" She asked, and Harry decided he'd just go with_ _the flow._

" _They're okay at the moment. He makes me feel safe," Harry responded shyly, and suddenly he was in the choir room before everyone, sat at the piano._

" _Play." Came a whisper from nowhere, and he just started playing the piano._

" _Wrapped up, so consumed by all this hurt  
If you ask me, don't know where to start  
Anger, love, confusion  
Roads that go nowhere  
I know that somewhere better  
'Cause you always take me there"_

 _The words flowed for some unknown reason, and Harry knew who he was singing to. William._

" _Came to you with a broken faith  
Gave me more than a hand to hold  
Caught before I hit the ground  
Tell me I'm safe, you've got me now."_

 _As the song faded away, Harry found himself with Luna again in the kitchen, sat at the table._

" _Let him take care of you, Harry; you can't do this alone."_

 _As Luna faded away, time resumed, and the dream ended, leaving Harry more confused than ever._

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review, criticism is always welcome.


	10. Boy-Who-Lived

AN: I did it! I doubled the word count in a very feely chapter, so prepare the tissues!

 **This chapter includes rape, abuse, and just everything. You've been warned.**

* * *

 _Boy-Who-Lived_

"Harry…" Mercedes said tentatively, breaking his train of thought. He turned to look at her, before dropping his gaze. She sighed, "Did Ms Sylvester get to you?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at those words, "No, she just… reminded me of someone that I once knew. He was my chemistry teacher. I hated him."

Mercedes giggled, shaking her head. Harry had his first encounter with the Coach, and he had stood his ground well, comebacks rolling off his tongue. She had briefly considered detention, but Mr Schue had turned up, allowing Harry and Mercedes to sneak away.

"That's funny."

She took a mouthful of coffee, stopping at the edge of the pavement. As the pair waited for the lights to change, Mercedes decided to change the subject, wanting to find out more about the boy who had caught everyone's attention.

"Hey Harry, what's your favourite colour?" She asked, knowing it was a bit random. He shrugged a little, indicating that he didn't know or didn't have one, but Mercedes wasn't happy with it, "Harry, you have to let me in some time. You can't block me or Kurt out forever."

She refrained from saying three little words, words that may damage everything between the group of three.

 _You need us._

Luna had said so, her last words of advice before leaving, smiling softly at their baffled faces, her dreamy eyes looking everywhere but them.

Sighing, Harry crossed the road, shaking his head, "I can't. If I do…"

Harry trailed off, thinking of all the times he let someone in. More than 75 percent died, leaving him nearly no one, and he didn't want to lose anyone else.

Being said, he not only wanted to let the two in, he wanted to let Glee club in. They gave him a place, a reason. He may not have seen it until his trip to the hospital, but they were his reason. And although he didn't know it, he was important to them, and not just for his abilities.

"Okay, at least tell me a little about you. How about telling me when your birthday is?" Mercedes reasoned, smiling softly at him, looking into his face.

He smiled then, "July 31st… Oh, that reminds me, I still haven't opened half my presents from last year. Maybe I should do that tonight. I only managed to open Ginny, Molly and Arthur and Ron's presents before all hell broke loose."

The words were casual, and Mercedes frowned then, remembering what she had read and deducted. Well, she could never forget, but it was brought to the front of her mind in that moment, the headlines glaring at her.

 _15-month-old orphan survives death-eater attack – hailed Boy-Who-Lived._

 _Boy-Who-Lived is found with a body. Is he innocent or guilty?_

 _Tom Riddle returns. Can Boy-Who-Lived save us?_

 _Boy-Who-Lived carries leader of the light – Albus Dumbledore dead._

 _Boy-Who-Lived kills Tom Riddle; the war is over._

 _Boy-Who-Lived's childhood comes to light. Is he a hero or victim?_

"Harry… I don't know how to ask this but are you… Are you the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Harry looked at her for a moment, trying to think of how to explain, how to soothe her fears, and his hesitance was all the answer she needed. She must have seen it on the news, done research.

She nodded, and pulled the boy into her arms, ignoring the way he stiffened. He relaxed into her embrace within moments, and her heart broke for the child that just wanted to be that; a child.

Harry pulled away, closing his eyes and composing himself, "I suppose now you think I'm a freak, and you never want to see me again."

Mercedes' eyes widened, and she pushed back the urge to slap him. How dare he think like that? There were people who loved him and believed in him, and Mercedes was one of them, and she wasn't walking away anytime soon. It would only ever be him to walk away, "No, I want to know the truth. I want to know what really happened in your childhood, not some story you tell everyone; wrong time, wrong place. You've seen horrors, and its time someone held them with you."

"Okay, um… My house isn't far from here, how about I tell you there? I can show you things that I've gained; pictures, videos, books, presents."

Mercedes agreed, and they headed up to Harry's home. She looked at it in wonder, her eyes lingering on Harry's car, the black beauty just as mysterious as the boy with dark hair.

She entered, and the house felt empty; no photos on the walls, just plain walls. The flooring was basic wood, and the decorations were a minimum. There was a potted plant in one corner, a table against the wall, and that was it. There was an arch to the kitchen, which seemed massive, the equipment extensive.

"Harry?" She heard her teacher call, and she turned to see the man exit the living room, a red pen in his hands. He was marking, "Oh, hey Mercedes, I wasn't expecting you."

Before she could say anything, Harry interrupted, "She's staying a while. We're going up to the music room… it's important."

"Okay, she can stay for dinner if she'd like," The man said, before returning to his work.

They headed up the stairs, and Mercedes took note of the hall that showed 6 different doors. They entered the end one, and it was beautiful. The windows were floor to ceiling and a baby grand sat in the centre. There were two boxes in the corner and there were two couches that Harry directed her to.

"Start from wherever is comfortable for you," Mercedes told him, and he nodded, but she could tell he was going to start from the beginning anyway.

"My earliest memory is from when I was 15 months old. Things are a bit blotchy, but I remember enough for it to frighten me in my sleep. At first, it seemed like a good memory, I was playing with my dad in the living room as he read the paper. He'd rather watch the news, but it's wasn't safe. Mum came in and takes me from dad's lap," He began, his back to her. He was pulling out a photo album, and he showed he a photograph of two people, a man with glasses and messy black hair, and a woman with red hair and green eyes. His parents.

"The next thing I know, dad was out the room, and he's telling my mum 'Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! I'll hold him off!' and mum is running up the stairs with me. She blocks us in the nursery and puts me in my cot. Um… she tells me 'Mama loves you. Dada loves you. Harry, be safe, be strong.'

The nursery door is then blown off its hinges, and mum stands between him and me. He just wants my life, not hers. He begged her to step aside, and she wouldn't. She tried to save me. Her last words haunt me to this very day; 'Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything!'"

Harry sighed and curled his fingers around the album edges.

"I don't have many memories after that until my third birthday. My present was being taught to cook as I now only needed a stool to reach the oven. When I burnt the bacon, my uncle beat me and locked me in my cup- my room for a week."

Mercedes noticed the slip-up, and she could put two and two together; it was how they had ended up there in the first place. _His room was a cupboard_. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she kept silent, not wanting him to stop.

"From then on, I know beatings were more frequent, bouts of starvation were longer and I became more useful. I didn't know my name 'til I started school a year later. Mum had always called me her fawn, dad had always called me his cub, and Moony and Padfoot had always called me their pup, so when Uncle and Auntie called me freak or boy, I just had no idea my name was Harry Potter."

The idea made her feel sick, but she had no idea what was about to be said.

"When I was 5, I found out that my aunt and uncle were gay, and married to keep their families happy. I found out because I saw my aunt kissing another woman, and when I asked my uncle why he took it as an invitation to rape me. Every Saturday night, when she went out and Dudley either went to bed or his friend's house for the night, my uncle would bound and gag me before raping me, generally just to stop me from fighting back or screaming."

Her hands rose to her mouth, the horrified gasp escaping her lips. He was scared of Kurt because he thought Kurt would attack him, not just because he was gay. He had been conditioned to think like that.

"That was my life; daily beatings, lack of meals and raped at least once a week. Until I turned 11 years old, and I was saved for 10 months of the year, because I was taken away to Hogwarts Boarding School. Now, the lessons were slightly different.

For the first two years, we studied Science, English, History, Horticulture, Math, Defense, and Astronomy, and we only did Gym in our first year. In our third year, we had to pick two more subjects, and the options were Foreign Languages, Veterinary Studies, World Cultures and Mythologies. I picked Veterinary Studies and Mythologies because I thought both were easy."

Mercedes felt slightly jealous; she had always wanted go to Hogwarts, but no one knew where it was. It was just a school that some people thought was a myth, and some people thought was real, but no one knew anyone that came from there. You had to be invited.

He turned the page in his album, showing a picture of an eleven-year-old him with a red-headed boy and a frizzy haired girl.

"However my first year, I spent the entire year trying to figure out why my Chemistry teacher, Snape, was trying to kill me and why there was a huge killer dog on the third-floor corridor. I found out easily, questioning Hagrid the right way got all the answers, and I almost died trying to save the world, with my two best friends, Ron and Hermione, in tow. And it turned out that my Defense teacher was trying to kill me, not Snape."

"That doesn't make it any better, Harry!" Mercedes found herself saying, tears in her eyes. His life was a tragedy, and he probably wasn't even halfway through the story.

The black haired teen smiled before continuing, "My second year was slightly easier, no longer thinking that my Chemistry teacher was trying to kill me. He just hated my guts. Instead, I was dealing with a servant who was trying to save my life and almost killed me anyway, and a bunch of 'outsiders' suddenly going into comas. Again, I ended up saving our souls as, once again, our Defense teacher was useless.

That was also the year I received my first valentines card, which was actually really sweet. Um, I can't remember the exact words she had written, but it was along the lines of 'His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.  
I wish he was mine, he's truly divine,  
the hero who conquered the Dark Lord.'"

Mercedes found herself giggling, despite the insanity Harry had suffered at just 12 years old. The page in his photo album showed Harry with the same two friends, but there were two others, twins, standing as if they were guards, but you could tell they weren't serious.

"In our third year, things were a bit easier. Yes, I thought there was a man trying to kill me that year, but he actually was innocent for a change. No Tom Riddle that year; thank god. No, I met my godfather, Moony, for the first time since my parent's deaths, and I spent time getting to know him and finding things out about my parents. And he had to correct me at some point. I had been caught out after curfew by Snape, and he had insulted my father, so I got a little sassy with 'My dad didn't strut. And not do I, and I'd appreciate it if you'd lower your torch.' And Moony came to my rescue, and after a thorough chewing out, he corrected my statement and sent me to bed."

"You didn't get a detention?" Mercedes asked, shocked. She had heard Hogwarts was really strict, and that's why you never see students unless it's summer or Christmas.

"No, Moony didn't have the heart. It would make him a hypocrite. His only problem was that there was a mass murderer hunting me down and I didn't give a damn," Harry said, grinning like an idiot, but it faded quickly. He turned the page in the album, and Mercedes saw Harry in red and black clothing, his eyes wide and his face somewhat bloody.

"Anyway my fourth year began, and everyone thought I was going to die. I fought poisonous snakes, spent an hour underwater trying to find my unconscious friend, and then was faced with Tom Riddle, back to full power. I got away with my life that night, but Cedric wasn't so lucky.

My fifth year was hell on earth, and I think I stopped being a child. My innocence was definitely vanquished, and it was a year of firsts for me, and a handful of lasts. My favourite memory of that year, a brief time of happiness was actually in the library, studying like normal children. Luna and Hermione were dating, to Ron's disgust and Neville was dating Ginny. I spent the year being tortured by toad face, and being trained miles below ground. That was the year Padfoot died and I found out I was going die, well according to a prophecy that decided the whole of my life."

Harry's voice became wobbly, but he kept a brave face, his voice continuing.

"What did the prophecy say?"

"It actually said 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'"

Mercedes nodded, the information sinking in. She suddenly saw movement out the corner of her eye, and she realised her teacher was eavesdropping on them, not that she minded. He deserved to know. She knew Harry would have noticed him, but she left him at it.

"Throughout my sixth year, my training continued in many different ways, and I slowly spiralled into insanity. Christmas was the worst when the Burrow burnt down, and Hermione and I ended up running through Ottery St. Catchpole, her in a towel as she had got out the shower as the attack started and me in a shirt and underwear. We certainly made the local papers. I also witnessed the death of Albus Dumbledore, who was assisting me in my last lesson before I was to go out and fight my life away.

I didn't attend my last year, but getting someone pregnant before leaving is never a good idea, but it happened. She may not have been my first, but we slept together many times, normally in a fit of anger or tears, and it just happened. We tried dating but it was too dangerous, so we just fucked. When she mailed me the scan, I probably felt the happiest I'd ever felt in my entire life, and I rushed as much as I could, hoping to be home by the time she was due, and I would have been.

I went back for Christmas, and I had gone out for some food as we had run out, and when I got back, they were being attacked. I got in the door as Luna tripped over, and as I pulled her up, a gunshot went off, and I heard her screams. I ran to her, the love of my life, and I found her bleeding from her belly.

She was rushed to the hospital, and the labour was induced, and the baby was born. My beautiful, little girl and I held her cold body in my arms, and I broke. That was the night I fucked Hermione, crying for my little girl, the love of my life, and all other lives lost.

A month later, I was faced with my life. I died and somehow came back. I then killed Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenir Greyback for taking the life of my little girl and then taking the love of my life's life. Many lives were lost, and I ended the battle. I killed Tom Riddle and walked away. I'm not really sure what happened after that, but I know that a month later, I came here, and you know the rest."

That was the story telling done, and with wet eyes, the two made their way downstairs, Mr Schue hiding in the bathroom just in time.

Harry cooked a wonderful tuna pasta bake, chatting away, telling Mercedes happier memories in detail, but never mentioning his love by name.

He knew both Mercedes and Kurt had slight crushes on him, and he knew that Mercedes wouldn't bother to make it known if she knew his heart belonged to someone else, but he didn't want to make it real for her, so he didn't say Ginny's name.

When Will joined them for dinner, Mercedes could see he had been crying but didn't comment on it, allowing the conversation to stay happy.

After dinner, Will murmured a thank you in her ear and she smiled at him, and he left, allowing the teens to say goodbye.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Mercedes headed to the door and opened it, and went to leave, but she turned back at the last moment, "What was her name? The love of your life?"

Harry's eyes met hers for a brief second, but they dropped as he murmured the words, "Her name was Ginny."

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AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please review, criticism is always welcome


	11. Memories

Memories

" _Hey," Harry murmured, not looking up from the fire. He had heard them arguing, and Hermione had run off crying, probably joining Ginny in their room._

" _Do you think I was wrong?" Ron asked, and Harry sighed, taking a mouthful of butterbeer. Harry didn't know what to say, because, honestly, he had no idea what was right or wrong anymore._

" _When do you think the others will be back?" Harry asked, and Ron snorted._

" _Not 'til tomorrow. With Bill, Charlie and Tonks here, I think the rest will be enjoying their freedom," Ron muttered, grabbing Harry's bottle and taking a swig._

 _The boys heard hesitant steps, and they turned to see their girls looking into the room, their cheeks damp, "We're sorry."_

 _Ron bowed his head, chuckling, "I thought I was 'posed to be saying sorry."_

 _Hermione laughed, swiping at her cheeks. She shook her head, biting her lip, "No. I don't think you have anything to be sorry for."_

Harry was drawn back to reality by the bell, and Harry gathered his bag and headed to Glee, ignoring Kurt's complaints at being left behind. Harry just wanted the day to be over; Brittany had gone around the glee club throughout the day asking who their hero was when they were little. Harry had managed to evade the question, but spending an hour in the same room as her almost guaranteed that she'd get an answer.

Entering the choir room, Harry found only three others there, and Brittany was one of them. Harry inwardly sighed and sat down, not making eye contact. He saw that Mercedes went to greet him, but she changed her mind and didn't say a word.

"Hey, Harry?" Brittany began, and Harry couldn't help himself but to turn to her, her eyes questioning, "Who was your hero when you were little?"

Although Harry had no idea why she was asking, he couldn't help himself but be honest with her, "I didn't have one."

Harry watched Mercedes shift uncomfortably in her seat, and he saw Santana look at him curiously like he was an insect under inspection. The Latina's eyes narrowed at him, "You're lying. Everyone had a hero when growing up. Someone who saved you from the monsters under the bed, or someone who killed the spider that was in the bathtub. That person was your hero, and you know it."

It was only the second or third time Santana had ever spoken to him, so she had no idea that he really didn't have one.

"Yeah, well I didn't have one. There were no monsters under the bed, and there were no spiders to kill."

Most of the kids had trailed in the short amount of time, and they were only waiting on Mr. Schue, Finn and Artie.

Mercedes kept her eyes fixed on the front, refusing to turn and look at Harry, her guilt overwhelming her. She wasn't shocked at Harry's response, but it hurt a little; what kid didn't look up to someone?

Kurt was a little put out at being ignored or day, but he couldn't take his eyes off the boy before him, shocked at what he was hearing. Didn't Harry have a hero? What world did he live in? He may have come from a war zone, but wouldn't that mean that he'd have a hero to look up to?

"Oh, come on! Everyone had a hero. Whether it was a character on a TV show, or one of their parents, they still had a hero," Santana was still talking, not understanding how Harry never looked up to anyone. Brittany was trying to get her to accept the answer, but to no avail.

"He's his own hero."

The voice was tiny, and all eyes shot to Mercedes, including Harry's. His mouth went dry, and Mercedes finally met his gaze, an apology already on his lips.

"You can't be-" Puck cut Santana off with a firm 'shut up, Santana', his eyes never moving.

Harry shut his eyes, knowing they'd find out now. They had to; there was no way to protect him from reality. He found himself nodding, giving Mercedes permission to tell them who he was.

"He is The-Boy-Who-Lived," Mercedes said, her voice shaky. Harry wasn't sure what the reaction was going to be, but it wasn't the one he expected. Santana promptly laughed, not believing a word of it, but the others looked at Harry, a mixture of pity and awe on their faces.

Harry couldn't bear to be in the same room at the group in that moment, and he found himself standing to leave the room. Kurt caught his arm, standing with him, and on impulse, Harry punched him, his eyes desperately searching for an exit.

As he came to his senses, he ran out the room, shoving past Finn and Mr. Schue as they finally arrived.

Harry found himself in the auditorium, holding the guitar that had been left on the floor.

"I hurt myself today  
To see if I still feel  
I focus on the pain  
The only thing that's real"

The words were painfully familiar, and with his back to the chairs, he could pretend, just for a moment, that he was alone. Mr. Schue and Santana had followed him, Santana's guilt radiating from her, more than Mercedes' had all day.

"The needle tears a hole  
The old familiar sting  
Try to kill it all away  
But I remember everything"

His shoulders shook with the exertion of standing and Harry gingerly sat down on the stage floor, his fingers still playing the tune.

Santana made her way to the stage, climbing up. She then walked to him and sat down, listening to his voice.

"What have I become  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know goes away  
In the end"

Santana reached for him and stopped the music he was playing. She took his hand, and led him off the stage, not saying a word. She sat him down on one of the chairs, and softly kissed his forehead, her eyes closed.

She then walked away, and got back on the stage, and headed backstage, where everyone else had gathered.

"Okay, this is the deal. He's a hurt child and he wants – no, he needs us, more than we've ever needed anyone in our lives. So, we are going to sing for him."

Everyone nodded their affirmative at Santana's mini speech, the song already decided. The music was set up, and they were ready for their sudden, unexpected performance.

They all stepped onto the stage and into their positions, the music starting. Mercedes looked over at Harry, who was sat beside Mr. Schue, and she saw the tear tracks on his cheeks, his red nose, and his puffy eyes.

"I'm sorry," She found herself murmuring, barely loud enough to hear it herself, but it was there.

"Oh why you look so sad  
The tears are in your eyes  
Come on and come to me now  
Don't be ashamed to cry  
Let me see you through  
Cause I've seen the dark side too"

Harry looked up, sharply. His eyes were fixed on Kurt, who kept his voice soft and comforting. There was shock written all over Harry's face, his eyes wide. They were singing for him.

No one had ever done anything like that before; well, except one other time, and it set off a fresh wave of tears, but this time, it was different.

"When the night falls on you  
You don't know what to do  
Nothing you confess  
Could make me love you less"

That part was sung by Mercedes, her voice sincere. He had told her his life story, almost, and it didn't change anything. He was still as precious, maybe more, as he was when they first met.

When she first saw Harry, something about him drew her in. It wasn't the mystery or the beauty in him, she just felt drawn to him. She knew he was special, and she knew he needed someone to love him, but she had no idea why.

Now she does.

"I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
Won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you"

The chorus kicked in, and all voices united, some a little shaky. They wanted to express that they loved him no matter what. He had taken a few lives; so what. He had saved the whole of the United Kingdom, and perhaps most of Europe. He was a Hero over there, but not to the Glee Club.

He didn't choose to be a hero, and he never would. He was made that way by chance and fate, but it wasn't his choice.

"So if you're mad get mad  
Don't hold it all inside  
Come on and talk to me now"

Brittany sang the first half of the verse, making eye contact with Harry. He managed a watery smile at her, but not much else. They had no idea that memories were flooding to him, thinking back to when Ginny sang that song to him after a nightmare, holding him close.

"Hey, what you got to hide  
I get angry too  
Well I'm a lot like you"

Santana sang the second half and everyone had to bite back a smile. Everyone knew Santana was angry 50 percent of the time, and the other 50 percent, she was being a judgmental bitch, but that didn't matter now.

Finn and Rachel took over then, singing the next verse together, their hands interlinked, "When you're standing at the crossroads  
And don't know which path to choose  
Let me come along  
Cause even if you're wrong"

Harry was scrubbing at his cheeks, sniffling lightly. He had never felt so loved at once. He knew he was loved, but no one, except Ginny, ever made him feel loved. He couldn't even recall how it felt until that moment, and Harry knew he had a new favorite memory.

As the final chorus kicked in, he rested his head on his teacher's shoulder, tired from his emotions. He felt an arm wrap around him, and Harry found himself snuggling in, embracing the warmth of being loved.

"I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you  
Won't let nobody hurt you  
I'll stand by you  
Take me in into you darkest hour  
And I'll never desert you  
I'll stand by you

Oh I'll stand by you  
I'll stand by you"

As the song finished, Harry closed his eyes, and smiled a true smile, his heart no longer hurting.

"Thank you."


	12. To Kill A Dead Woman

AN: Hey guys, again, this is a short chapter, so I will try to up the word count next time. I have also just written the last chapter of this story, however, currently, I am actually nowhere near finishing. I just thought I would be a good idea to get the ending down so I remember the ending when I get there.

Songs used:  
Bridge to the Other Side by Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls

* * *

 _To Kill A Dead Woman_

 _Oliver Boyd has gone mad. Somehow, he's accessed your history, and he's now writing songs about it. Here are some of the music and lyric sheets. You could make some use of them._  
 _\- Draco Malfoy_

Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes at the dramatic blonde boy. He cast the note aside, ignoring the actual letter, and looked over the papers included in the envelope. He took the first lyric sheet and matched it with the music, smiling softly.

The lyrics were simple; not enough for him to complain about. This one was just about the boy who lived, not Harry.

Many people wondered what the difference was, knowing they were the same person. However, Harry wasn't daft. He knew all people saw was the hero that was portrayed in the papers.

The only person that didn't gawp at him when they found out was Mercedes. She wasn't even surprised, she just accepted it instantly, without question. There was no staring or anything. It was like nothing had changed.

That wasn't true, of course. Everything had changed. Now everyone in glee club knew, they were more careful, not wanting to set him off, because they believed one newspaper that they found when doing research to understand him better.

 _Is the Boy-Who-Lived dangerous?_

Harry had read part of the article, curious. Of course, he was dangerous. He had killed people, but it wasn't a choice. He had to kill Voldemort; otherwise, the whole damn world would be destroyed with no one to save it.

Looking over the lyrics, he found many things he didn't like about it, but none of it was actually inaccurate.

He put the sheet down on the table, with the music underneath, ready to try later. He picked up the next one and quirked an eyebrow. Bridge to the Other Side? Oliver had written that one after Sirius' death, obviously from Harry's point of view.

 _I would build a bridge to the other side_  
 _Just so I could spend a little time with you_

The words seemed so familiar, and Harry thought of so many people that he couldn't count on both hands. He bowed his head, closing his eyes briefly. He shook his head and dropped the papers on the table, not bothering to make them look neat.

He stepped out the living room, deciding he'd cook dinner slightly early, starting the reading man in the kitchen.

"Hey, I'm going to cook dinner, early, if you don't mind," Harry said, suddenly unsure.

The man nodded, turning to look at Harry, "I don't mind, it doesn't bother me. What was in the envelope?"

Harry chuckled as he opened the overhead cupboard, "A letter that I haven't actually read yet, a note, and a load of music and lyric sheets that Mal-" Harry paused to correct himself, having not quite broken the habit of addressing the snake by his first name, "Draco sent for me to look over. Not that I can read music, but I get the gist."

" _Harry! Pay attention!"_

A slight memory drifted through his mind, of when Hermione began teaching him how to read music. When Ginny had purposely walked past him, just to wiggle her ass at him, he had lost focus, causing Hermione to snap at him.

As Harry set dinner up, William couldn't help but wonder what the music consisted of, and he knew his curiosity would get the better of him soon or later, but in that moment, he chose to ignore that fact, "Why haven't you read the letter?"

Harry turned to him, smiling, "Because I know that it is going to come with a reason for me to return to England, and I'm not ready. Not yet… Maybe when we eat in 10 minutes."

The comment made Will chuckle, "What are we having for dinner, anyway? Is it another weird, English meal?"

"Scotch eggs are not weird! And nor is a Cornish pasty! And we are having battered cod and chips."

At the teacher's confusion, Harry corrected himself, "Fries. But they are slightly fatter. You and your American language."

Will chuckled. The two remained in silence for the next twenty minutes as the food cooked, Harry fetching the letter off the table, keeping it folded. He placed it on the table, where he would sit, ready to read it.

As they sat down, Will resumed his reading, trying to hide his shock at the tasty meal. It was a lot better than other fried foods as it didn't have the greasiness of it.

Harry picked up the letter, taking slow even breaths, unsure if he really wanted to read it. He unfolded it anyway and began reading.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I hope you're alright. Mother and I have just finished packing for our move to Indianapolis. We will be leaving in a week's time, so we'll be there before you even get this letter._

 _Hogwarts has almost finished being reconstructed, and they are discussing a ceremony to celebrate its re-opening. Obviously, the ministry has decided you must come back to give a big speech and I swear Kingsley is having too much fun watching the workers trying to locate you to tell them that he knows where you are. I almost feel sorry for them. Almost._

 _So, I'll expect an invite from Kingsley in the next week or so to the opening. Good luck trying to turn that down; it'll really disappoint me to not be able to watch you make an ass of yourself._

 _In this letter, I include the DVD Hermione asked me to put together a few months before your 17th birthday. As you know, things went to hell, and that never happened, so I finally completed it in her memory. However, may I question why I had to watch you have sex with both Ginevra and Hermione because that was rather off putting!_

 _I hope to see you soon,_  
 _Draco Malfoy._

 _PS: Mother sends her love, and a thank you for saving my life, although I have no idea what she's talking about._

Harry looked up, sighed, folded the letter up and slid it back in the envelope, before saying, "I'm going to kill her."

"Hm?" Will asked, looking up from his book, fork halfway to his mouth, "Who are you going to kill?"

"I'm going to kill a dead woman," Harry said, determinedly, his cheeks a fiery red. Draco Malfoy watched that sex tape? Harry thought it had been destroyed.

"I'm not sure that's how it works, Harry," The man said, unable to keep himself from chuckling at the teen before him.

But Harry turned his glare on the teacher, "I'll make it work. She gave Draco Malfoy that s- video that we all promised to destroy, and now it's preserved forever on this DVD with all other innocent videos!"

Although Harry covered his slip up well, not well enough, and Will knew instantly what was on the DVD. Sex.

The man ignored it, not really wanting to know, and finished his meal. He put his dish into the dishwasher and made his way to the living room to do some paperwork. He saw the papers scattered on the coffee table, and as made his way past to sit down at the desk on the other side of the room, a few words caught his eye and he had to take a step back.

So when Harry joined him half hour later, he couldn't help but ask his question, "Harry, what is a muggle?"

* * *

AN: Ooh, cliffhanger... again. Will Harry reveal all, or will he lie his way out? Hope you liked it, and please review.


	13. Muggle DVDs

Muggle DVDs

"I can't tell you," Harry started, but he shook his head, knowing it was a lie, "Actually, I can, and I don't want to."

McGonagall had phoned them to tell him that he had permission to tell William of magic from the US Ministry of Magic; however that would mean spilling his guts and that would make things more complicated.

"Harry," Will began, and Harry knew it was a lost cause. Sighing, Harry left the room, instructing William to stay there.

He went to his room, and pulled out his collection of blank DVDs. With his wand, he extracted a memory from his mind, and dropped it onto the disc, allowing it to absorb. Then, he added a sealant charm to secure the memory, and took the disc back downstairs.

"Okay, this will explain the basics of what I need to tell you. I can't really explain it without you thinking I'm a nutter, and I can't tell you what a muggle is without previous knowledge, so, you need to watch this. It's a memory from when I was 11 years old."

As Harry was explaining, he was setting the disc up ready to be watched. It loaded, and the video instantly played as Harry sat down.

 _A small boy, Harry was lying on a dirty, dusty floor. He had drawn a birthday cake which read Happy Birthday Harry. As Harry turned to look at the watch, it beeped 12:00._

" _Make a wish, Harry," The child murmured before blowing the candles out._

"I wished the same thing I did every year; I wished for someone to save me." Harry murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as the little boy blew his dusty candles out.

 _Suddenly, the door thumps. Harry jumps, and leans his hands on the floor.. The door thumps again and the large boy and Harry jump up and back away. A woman and a large man appear, the man with a gun. The door bangs again and then cracks open, and a giant man appears._

"The child is Dudley, the man is Vernon, and the woman is Petunia. They are my family, unfortunately," Harry grumbled, and Will nodded, understanding.

" _Sorry 'bout that." Hagrid said as his put the door back in its place._

" _I demand that you leave at once, Sir! You are breaking and entering!" Vernon shouts, trying to look menacing as his wife shook behind him. The giant goes over and bends the end of the gun upwards, and it goes off._

" _Dry up, Dursley, you great prune." The man says, and turned around, ignoring there scared cries. He sees Dudley and makes his way towards him, "Mind, I haven't seen you since you was a baby, Harry, but you're a bit more along than I would have expected. Particularly 'round the middle!"_

 _Dudley stutters out a response, "I-I-I'm not Harry."_

 _Harry, breathing deeply, appears from behind the wall, "I am."_

 _The giant, still unnamed, smiles, "Oh, well, of course you are! Got something for ya. 'Fraid I might have sat on it at some point! I imagine that it'll taste fine just the same. Ahh. Baked it myself, words and all."_

"Harry, how much longer until anything is actually revealed?" Will asked, and Harry held up a hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

"I've never watched my own memories like this…"

 _The giant hands Harry the box, which Harry opens to reveal a pink cake with green icing in it that spelt 'Happee birthdae Harry', "Thank you."_

" _It's not every day that your young man turns eleven, now is it?" The giant said, sitting down on the couch, takes out a pink umbrella and points it at the empty fire. Two sparks fly out and the fire starts. The family gaped._

" _Excuse me, who are you?" Harry asked, setting the cake down on the table, at looking at the man on the now very squashed couch._

" _Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Course, you'll know all about Hogwarts."_

 _Harry looked extremely sorry as he apologised for not knowing about it. Hagrid didn't seem to understand, and he pressed further, "No? Blimey, Harry, didn't you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?"_

" _Learnt what?" Harry asked, his curiosity obvious._

" _You're a wizard, Harry." Hagrid said, his brown eyes sincere._

"Nope, I don't-" As Will went to say he didn't believe it, Harry took out his wand.

"You want proof?" Harry asked, thinking of a happy memory. The teacher nodded, sceptical. Harry closed his eyes, and did the wand movement as he murmured the incantation, "Expecto patronum."

Harry opened his eyes as the fawn galloped around the room. A sad smile formed on Harry's lips, and the animal vanished, affected by his sadness. Their heads swivelled back to the TV, as Hagrid's voice raged.

" _A car crash? A car crash kill James and Lily Potter?" Of what you could see of his face, you could tell he was disgusted._

" _We had to tell him something," Petunia's offhand voice only fuelled his rage._

" _It's an outrage! It's a scandal!" The giant continued._

" _He'll not be going!" Vernon demanded, glaring at the giant._

 _Hagrid's voice became humorous, "Oh, and I suppose a great Muggle like yourself's going to stop him, are you?"_

" _Muggle?" Harry asked._

"Muggle?" Will asked, and Harry giggled at the resemblance.

" _Non magic folk. This boy's had his name down ever since he was born! He's going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, and he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts' has ever seen: Albus Dumbledore."_

The DVD stopped there, and Will sat there, dumbstruck. Harry Potter was a wizard.

"You must not repeat this to anyone. If you do, their memory of the incident with be wiped, and you will be charged a fine. I am only allowed to tell you because a. you are my guardian, and b. I'm the boy who lived, so I am actually allowed to tell whom I like within reason."

Will nodded, his eyes fixed on the blank screen, "Harry, is that why you survived the night Tom Riddle came to your house and killed your parents?"

Harry shrugged, "Sort of. It was a mix between my mother's sacrifice for my life, and the unbreakable vow Voldemort made to Severus Snape to spare my mother's life. He broke it, so he did the only thing he could do; his body died, and left his soul to feed off other people's lives. He couldn't die, properly; he had made things called horcruxes, but that's for another time. That's just depressing."

Will nodded, and Harry stood up. He gathered the papers, and headed into the kitchen. He dialled the new phone number, and listened to it ring for a few seconds.

"Hello?" A familiar voice asked, and Harry smiled.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, "I just got Draco's letter. Could I talk to him?"

Harry was passed on, and he had a long talk with the Slytherin, catching up, talking about school, and for a moment, Harry felt normal.

When he hung up, he found Will stood in the kitchen doorway, "Can I see more magic?"

Harry chuckled, "How about something better? I'm sure you'd love to see a few old memories. Of me, Ron, Hermione, and all the others. Draco has compiled a bunch of memories onto a disc with Hermione's help using everyone's memories of me. There are a few of mine, but not many.

Will nodded, and helped Harry set the disc up in the TV, and he just clicked on the small snippets option, obviously Hermione's part. 

"Wow," Harry murmured, watching Hermione fix his glasses in her bossy ways, "She actually got less overbearing through the years."

Will chuckled, "That, I don't believe."

"That's Fred and George Weasley," Harry said with a laugh as they handed him the Marauders Map. That must have been one of their memories

" _Hello," Harry said, causing a young girl to run off, leaving Harry look shockingly alarmed. The scene changed and showed a brief view of Harry hugging the same girl years later._

"That's my Ginny." Harry said fondly, "She was terrified of me. The next morning, she stuck her elbow in the butter."

"Harry," Will asked, "Why did you pick this option?"

Harry laughed, "I didn't want to be here for the next 15 hours watching my life, the good and bad."

As they continued watching, Harry's sorting was shown, with many other memories. He watched himself cough up the snitch, and instruct the DA on muggle fighting techniques, Ginny doing the most damage and Harry doing the most ducking and avoiding.

" _You are not 15, anymore!"_

The disgusted shout of Hermione made Harry giggle, the screen showing Hermione's green hair, her eyes blazing. She was chewing Sirius out for turning her hair green, and he just thought it was funny.

" _Lighten up, 'Mione. It suits you," Sirius joked, taking a mouthful of his beer, "Now, will you please be quiet. No need to wake the sleeping angels."_

Hermione moved, and the screen showed Harry and Remus sleeping, Harry's head buried in Remus' neck like a child.

"You actually look adorable," Will commented, and Harry pulled a face.

"We had been up all night, because I couldn't sleep and Remus just talked to me. He told me stories of my parents, of when they were at school, and stories of when I was a baby."

"Really?" Will said, entranced by the idea.

"Yeah, Remus even told me about the chaos I created with my first word. Money was owed, I have two upset parents, and one shocked godfather, and one very pleased Remus Lupin. I said his name first. Well, I said 'Moo', and he was known as 'Uncle Moony', so I said his name first."

The video kept playing, and the two chatted well into the night, ignoring everything logical, and hoping for things to get better.


	14. Should've Known Better

Songs Used:  
So Cold - Ben Cocks

* * *

 _Should've Known Better_

Harry sat down, his fingers sliding over the keys. It wasn't something he often did, but at that moment, he just wanted to play.

He could see Will in his office, probably grading the pop quizzes they had done in Spanish, and Harry felt safe.

Although he couldn't read music, it didn't affect his ability to play, and the internet was a great thing; he could search up the music and have it translated if he needed it to, so it was okay.

However, he knew this song by heart, and didn't need any help, and could play it without a second thought.

He began playing, his mind filled with images of Hermione, and of Ginny, and of the letter he had received that morning from Andromeda Tonks. He didn't particularly like the woman, but now he hated her.

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _I regret to inform you that although the war is over, your duties as our saviour are not. I appreciate you have lost loved ones in this war, but they weren't yours to love. They were not your real family, and you shouldn't be acting as if they were._

 _You have a duty to make sure everyone in the UK is safe in this mess you created. I know Dora spoke highly of you, but it doesn't mean I like you. You need to come back to England and help._

 _Just so you know, Dora had a little boy 4 days before she died in battle. If you hadn't called for her, there wouldn't be another orphaned child. His name is Theodore Harrison Weasley._

 _Ms Andromeda Tonks_

The letter had been short, and it had hit Harry hard. Tonks had a little boy with Charlie, and they named him after Harry.

It wasn't a bad thing, but Harry didn't want that child to live in his shadow. Not that it would matter now; Harry knew a summons when he saw one, and he knew Andromeda wanted him to take on the child, as it was his fault that Theodore was an orphan.

However, he'd put it off for as long as possible. He knew he would hate the child, just for existing, but he couldn't be his uncle. He wouldn't allow himself to be.

"Oh, you can't hear me cry  
See my dreams all die  
From where you're standing  
On your own."

The words were so familiar that they came without a thought. He never even considered about who may be listening, or who could walk past. The emotion in his was bubbling forth, and even though he wouldn't normally pick that song to sing, it was what he was singing.

"It's so quiet here  
And I feel so cold  
This house no longer  
Feels like home."

The words made him think of the last time he stepped foot in Hogwarts, the way that the place he once called come wasn't home no more. All sense of magic and safety had gone, and he didn't think it could ever be replaced.

He didn't look up from the piano, so he never noticed the three women in the doorway, having stopped when they heard the sound of music.

Sue had originally wanted to tell him to shut up, but she found herself drawn in by the boy's voice, the emotion capturing her heart in a way that reminded her of her youth, the way her mother made her feel due to the neglect of her sister.

Emma had intended to speak to Will, but stopped to listen to the unfamiliar boy. Of course, she knew who he was; Will had spoken to her about him, expressing his worries and concerns for him. She had assured him that she'd try to speak to him, but so far, the mysterious boy had evaded her. But now, watching him, she knew he needed more help than she could give.

Shannon had been walking past, aiming to go home, but she had seen the two women in the doorway, and her curiosity got the better of her; so she joined them, and realised they were watching the boy with black hair and green eyes that had captured the hearts and attention of the whole of Glee Club.

"Oh, when you told me you'd leave  
I felt like I couldn't breathe  
My aching body fell to the floor  
Then I called you at home  
You said that you weren't alone"

The words were familiar to the group of women, and Will had finally noticed the three in the doorway. As he opened his door, he let in the sound of Harry's voice, and he was captured like the women were, like Harry had put a spell on them.

"I should've known better  
Now it hurts much more."

With the two lines, the music faltered, and Harry could sing no more. His chin almost touched his chest as his head dropped, sobs wracking his small body. The spell was broken, but the effects lingered.

Will wanted to run over and pull the teen into his arms, but he knew it wasn't appropriate in front of his colleagues, and he knew Harry really wouldn't appreciate it.

It didn't matter, though, because Shannon had already stepped in, and she was knelt beside the boy, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Sue was glaring at Will, knowing the child was his responsibility and Emma…

Emma had frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide. She had no idea what to do, and she didn't know how to help.

All teachers had read Harry's file to prepare for his arrival, and they all knew of his background. He was a war child; it was all he knew, and now it had been taken from him, he had no idea what to do.

And now he was grieving for the ones he had lost.

Harry hadn't really grieved for anyone. That had been taken away by training, and he was taught to not feel. It didn't work completely, and now everything was building up, and he just needed someone to hold him.

He thought back to what Mad-Eye said once, just after the guard had taken him to Grimmauld Place. He had taken Harry aside after dinner and sat him down. Mad-Eye wasn't one to be kind or gentle, but that was what his words were.

" _Don't take all this blame onto yourself. We should have seen it coming, so don't you dare, no matter what happens, turn into me."_

The words echoed around in Harry's head, and it was the only thing that kept him going on some days. He didn't want to turn into Mad-Eye Moody; old, bitter and cranky, but it was very difficult not to.

* * *

AN: Okay, yes, I have made Andromeda a bitch, but I need her to be a bitch for the story to head the way I want it to. Sorry. Please Review.


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